Impossible to Ever Love
by mz kane
Summary: Hermione travels back through time after wishing for a better life and love... She did not expect that her travel would bring her the one man she thought was impossible to ever love Lord Draco Malfoy. AU fic. At last! New chapter!
1. The Eve of a Decision

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters nor do I own the plotline. The characters are JK Rowling's. And the plotline is Lynn Kurland's (well, some parts and references belong to her.) Any characters you don't recognize in the Harry Potter books are mine. There is no magic in this, unless you count going back through time. (An overused plot, I know!)  
  
Author's Note: This is one of my first fan fics, so bear with me. Please Read and Review! Any suggestions will be welcome. Also, the title is simply a working title, it may change over time.  
  
Impossible to Ever Love  
  
Chapter 1: The Eve of a Decision  
  
Hermione Granger took one last look at her apartment and sighed. She was going to miss this place. The cream-colored walls, the hardwood flooring, the unobstructed view of London. Oh yes, she was going to miss everything. How she used to wake up to the sun filtering through the flimsy curtains of her bedroom window, how she used to take long, undisturbed baths in her tub after a hard day's work, the way she used to curl up on the couch and watch the late-night movie.  
  
And to what was she giving up the good life for?  
  
Oh nothing, except that she was to be married tomorrow at sunset.  
  
She smiled tiredly as she stood up from the couch where she was doing her last-minute packing and walked toward the wide window. She peered outside for a few minutes, simply watching dusk appear before her very eyes and the hustle and bustle down below.  
  
She was to be married tomorrow, and to whom? But oh, to the most wonderful man she'd ever met: Ronald Weasley.  
  
Ronald Weasley, a man of 29 years of age, had once been a product of a poor family. One of the many children of the Weasley clan, he had struggled during his school years and had come out of it a very proficient young man. He had made a name for himself in the stock market, and therefore, became a multimillionaire before the age of twenty-five. Undoubtedly, he was the most elegant bachelor around. Tall, exceedingly handsome and very rich, he carted around a lot of women before finally settling his gaze on Hermione.  
  
They met during a private dinner party of a mutual acquaintance some months back. He had been alone during that time; she had just come from a bad relationship. Needless to say, they quickly hit it off. He was charming and gentlemanly as she was beautiful and intelligent.  
  
Hermione had been a fashion model during her late teens. With her long, copper-brown hair, her hazel eyes and her trim body, she was quickly booked for fashion show with some of the world's most famous fashion designers. But she found out soon enough that she did not want the hype and glamour that modeling surely had in its Prada bag; and so, quietly and as gracefully as she could do at that time, she left the fashion world in search of something more fulfilling.  
  
Not that she had no where to go after her step off the runway. During her modeling age, she was in college and she worked damn hard for her degree. She graduated magna cum laude at her university and majored in literary arts. So, after the fashion business, she set her sights on journalism.  
  
Applying for a slot in the newspaper was not that hard for her. She had the mind and the passion for writing and her editor-in-chief saw that in her at once. Hermione was quickly given her very own column. She enjoyed the job, for the first couple of years that is. Having found that work schedules and deadlines were giving her stress-related problems, she once again exited from the newspaper world.  
  
She finally decided to be a novelist. After reading countless novels, (she was the newspaper's features' editor and literary reviewer) she realized that this was meant to be her one and only lifetime passion. And so, she wrote. After her very successful book entitled "A Song for the Many", she was renowned the world over as the number one writer of inspirational and heartfelt novels, if only known by her pen name.  
  
But right now, she was putting the completion of her second book on hold because of her impending marriage to her fiancé.  
  
Fiancé. The word ran through her mind for what seemed like the millionth time during that day. When Ron had asked her to be his wife a month before, she had said yes without any thought, as if saying answering to a very trivial question; which was exactly the opposite of that situation.  
  
No, she believed she was not in denial. She could not be in denial. This was Ronald Weasley; a man who promised her a good home, a secure love and an everlasting friendship! She was not in regret or in denial of their love for each other. Ronald's love was true and faithful; it was possible that hers lacked conviction.  
  
But I can't love him any less! She chided herself harshly as her eyes flickered over the city. I love him. I do!  
  
She thought once that if a man asked for your hand, and that you answered without any thought, then that would mean that you were madly in love with him.  
  
But now, it seemed like this was not the case. The minute that damned word escaped her lips, her chest tightened, her breath quickened, and it was impossible to block the flow of regret that filled her mind. It seemed that the fates were indeed against her, or against her marrying Ron for that matter. But he had smiled and was oblivious to the look of fear and anxiousness that crossed her features. He simply stood and picked her up and kissed her like hell. After that, everything became a blur of events and people and parties.  
  
She accepted the kisses, the gifts and the regards that every one seemed to send her way and Ron's. Everyone was happy about their engagement, so why wasn't she?  
  
It wasn't because she didn't truly love him. was it?  
  
What is true love anyway? She asked herself as she rubbed the back of her neck. All that time, tapping away at her computer was finally bringing out its repercussions.  
  
Was she really in love with Ron that she would willingly spend her life with him? Or was that "yes" just a polite way to answer him after his proposal: dinner, roses, dessert and the 24-karat diamond ring? She looked at her hand right now and saw the ring sitting firmly on her ring finger, as if to say that she had no choice.  
  
But she didn't want a choice! There was no choice to be made. She was in love with Ronald Weasley! End of discussion, debate and whatever her mind had set out for her to answer. Or maybe that was her heart, asking those hard-to-sway questions.  
  
Ahh! To hell with the matters of mind and heart! She finally said to herself.  
  
Hermione sighed and turned away from the window. She walked back to the couch and got her laptop off the coffee table then placed it in its bag. After that last job was done, she went to her bed and plopped down on it. This was her last night of being single and being Miss Hermione Granger. Tomorrow, everything would change. She would be forever bound to Ronald Weasley. Heart, mind, body and soul.  
  
But as she fitfully drifted off to what she hoped would be a nightmare-less sleep, she wondered if her whole self was sold on Ronald Weasley. For the millionth time that day, she subconsciously doubted that she truly loved Ron. And for the millionth time that day, she hoped for an answer. 


	2. Whisked Away

Author's Note: Please Read and Review! Thank you!  
  
Chapter 2: Whisked away  
  
Ronald Weasley got out of his car and shut the doors. He was at the chapel where he and Hermione would be married. He smiled to himself as he walked up the steps and opened the doors. Inside, attendants and wedding coordinators were busy with the preparations.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, good morning sir." The crisp voice of the head wedding coordinator, Belinda Warrick, greeted him. Ron turned and nodded his own greeting.  
  
"I trust that everything is in order?" Ron asked as they both walked along the aisle.  
  
"Yes, sir. If you would permit me." She stopped and waved her hand toward the front of the church. "The whole church is decorated with red, orange and yellow flowers, roses to be exact. I am assuming Hermione's favorite colors?"  
  
Ron nodded and Belinda continued.  
  
"Plus, the colors are of sunset, very appropriate. The carpet for the aisle will be a deep shade of red and the pews will be littered with flower petals." She turned to face the pews and pointed out with her hands. "The left will be the groom's side, the right, the bride's. As for the bridal entourage, all is taken cared of, care of me and my staff. The gowns are beautiful, made by only London's most famous and celebrated designers. Participants are now getting ready for the wedding. Miss Granger had asked us to prepare a room just for her. She has not come yet and has asked not to see anyone before the wedding time."  
  
"Very good, Miss Warrick. I approve." Ron said, giving her a smile. "Continue on with the excellent work. I shall be on my way now, last minute business has not given me rest, even on the best day of my life!"  
  
"Yes, sir. I trust everything will be fine." Belinda smiled. "A room has been set to you, sir. I trust you would find it very comfortable and well-appointed."  
  
"Yes. Thank you." Ron said, turning to leave. He took one last look at the chapel and smiled to himself. The day was going to be perfect, he told himself as he got out the keys to his black BMW and walked towards his car.  
  
* * *  
  
Hermione sat down opposite her vanity and placed her head in her hands. Today was it. Today was the day that was going to determine if she loved him enough to marry him with all her heart or if she had made a terrible mistake.  
  
She had arrived half an hour after Ron had left the chapel and was greeted by most of the crew that was working on the decorations. However, she only had a glimpse of the said decorations as she was more or less pushed into one of the private rooms they had near the chapel where she could change at her own pace.  
  
4 hours and 15 minutes to go, she said mentally, after checking her watch. Another gift given by Ron. She irritably looked away. How could she be callous, so inappropriately mean, that she was thinking of her love for Ron. He was doing his best to make the dream wedding she had discussed with him, not long after he had proposed. So far, all her wishes were granted and all was ready for her day.  
  
She turned back toward the mirror in front of her and stared at her reflection. Her eyes and features all depicted what she was feeling inside: immense dread and despair.  
  
"Well, Hermione. Might as well get it over with." She muttered to herself as she stood up and walked over to the closet. Putting her hand on the handle, she hesitated before opening the armoire. But then immediately dispelling all thoughts of backing out, she forcefully opened the closet and came face to face with the most beautiful wedding dress she'd ever seen.  
  
And by God, it looked amazing. The wedding dress was beautiful frothy white. The skirt was balloon enough to hide little children in and the bodice was intricately designed with spring flowers. The long sleeves were made of pure silk and were brocaded with designs. The ends of the sleeves were pointed, very much like what the ladies of the medieval times before wore.  
  
Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, staying in that position for a few minutes; thank God no one else was there. When she finally got a hold of herself, she gasped and gaped at the beautiful dress. It was like it had come out from one of her fairy books. As a child, she was so interested in fair maidens and gallant knights that she made a promise to herself that she would have a gown that would be just like a princess'. And now, she was staring at it. It was really like a fairy tale. She, the beautiful maiden, off to marry her dashing knight in a elaborate and luxurious ceremony.  
  
But was Ron her knight in shining armor? She wondered idly then quickly turning red from embarrassment and shame. How dare she think these thoughts! He was nothing but kind and gentlemanly. He never humiliated her. He never did anything to displease her. She was lucky enough to have him love her with all his heart! And what was she currently doing?  
  
Thinking twice about that 'love' that they shared.  
  
How insolent of you, Hermione Granger! She scolded herself. She then turned to the small bathroom and stripped her clothing off, getting ready for a nice shower that could be the answer to that splitting headache that she was now experiencing.  
  
It's just pre-wedding jitters. She assured herself, but her mind was surely doubting that. Ron loves me, I love him. Why shouldn't we get married? Why can't I be happy with him? She thought these things as she stepped into the shower and turned it full blast.  
  
The water was warm and heavenly, it soothed some of her aches and pains and it rejuvenated her spirit. She thought over and over in her mind like a mantra that she was going to marry Ron, not because of the fact that he might get humiliated for being left at the altar, but because she love him with all her heart. Despite what her soul was craving for.  
  
A few minutes later, Hermione was wrapped in a fluffy towel and she was combing her hair in front of her vanity. She was not thinking about anything else besides a way to get those damn butterflies off her stomach. After she brushed her long tresses, she began to take out her lingerie from her traveling bag and put them on.  
  
Having been a part of the fashion scene, she had quite an extensive knowledge of cosmetics. Never mind that it was considered odd that a bride would have to put on her make up, she reached out for her make-up kit and began rummaging through it.  
  
30 minutes later, she stepped back from the mirror and admired her handiwork. Her lips were coated with a deep shade of rose and her cheeks lightly blushed with pink. Her eyes were lined with the slightest of smudges, making her eyes pop out, yet not it did not appear too heavy. Her hair, that could be dealt with later, after asking the help of the make-up designer.  
  
She took one last look at herself before straightening up and walking over to the intercom the wedding coordinator had set up in the room. After talking to the designer, she sat back down on the chair and waited. Promptly enough, a knock was heard not a minute later.  
  
"Come in." Hermione called out as she turned when the door opened.  
  
"Good afternoon, Miss Granger." Said a man in a double-breasted, navy blue suit with a weird French accent. He then walked over to where she sat and looked at her reflection as well. "My, my. a wonderful job, the soon-to- be Mrs. Weasley." He added, smiling.  
  
"Thank you." Hermione said, smiling back.  
  
"Now, let us get to work. I am thinking." His voice trailed off "Aha! A twist, pulled up, with a few tendrils on your face, no?"  
  
"Yes, I think that would be very nice."  
  
"Well then, let's get started, shall we?"  
  
And with that, he proceeded to brush and fix her hair.  
  
An hour later, Hermione was awed that she was looking like this. He did exactly what he told her he would do and the effect was amazing.  
  
"Ah, beautiful, simply beautiful." He said. His name, she found out during their one hour together was Armand.  
  
"Thank you, Armand. I absolutely love it!"  
  
"It is but my job to beautify a bride even more on her wedding day. But now, the final touch must be added. The wedding dress, no?"  
  
Hermione nodded.  
  
"Very well, I shall call my assistant." He then walked briskly to the door, opened it and hollered out. "Donna! I need you right now!"  
  
After a few moments, a petite girl came rushing forward. Armand then showed her to Hermione.  
  
"Miss Granger, this is Donna, I am sure she will be a big help to you. I must be going, must get to the other ladies. I bid you adieu, Miss Granger."  
  
"Thank you once again, Armand. For everything." Hermione called out as he bowed and went out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.  
  
Hermione then turned to Donna. "Hello, I'm Hermione."  
  
"Oh yes, I do know who you are, Miss Granger. Mister Weasley is certainly lucky that he is to have you." Donna answered shyly.  
  
"Thank you. Now, on with the dress?" Hermione prodded.  
  
"Ah, yes." Donna said as she walked over to the closet and carefully plucked out the beautiful wedding dress. She removed the plastic cover as she did so and presented it to Hermione. "Your dress is absolutely wonderful, Miss."  
  
"Thank you, I think so too." Hermione said. She then stood up from her seat at the vanity and walked over to where Donna was standing.  
  
Donna unclasped the hook and pulled down the long zipper. Hermione then stepped into it.  
  
A few minutes later, Hermione was coiffed and pampered to look like a queen. She stepped in front of the full length mirror and admired her reflection. She smiled. She really did look like a queen.  
  
"Very beautiful, Miss Granger." Donna gushed.  
  
"Thank you." Hermione said, stepping into her three-inch heeled white shoes.  
  
"Well, Miss. my work here is done. I shall leave you now." Donna said, turning to leave.  
  
"Thanks again, Donna."  
  
And then Hermione was once again alone with her own thoughts who have seemed to take part in making her life miserable. Not caring if her wedding dress would get ruined, she sat down on the chair opposite the vanity and resumed an earlier position of putting her head in her hands. Only about an hour till her wedding and she was having huge doubts.  
  
"I can't say I wasn't happy with Ron, because I was. I was happy, contented, maybe, for the both of us to be taking it slow and simple." Hermione murmured, idly thinking about what would happen if she was to disappear before the wedding. These thoughts, she immediately brushed off, saying that it would never happen. But it did not dispel the doubts she still carried towards Ron.  
  
"I only wish that there was some way for me to know if I have really found the right man to be with... If this is the man the fates have chosen for me." Hermione said wistfully.  
  
What she didn't realize when she said those words that the fates were planning to show her the right man to be with.  
  
* * *  
  
"Alright, places everybody!" Belinda said, slightly shouting over the murmurs of the bridal entourage. Ron was already at the altar, waiting rather impatiently for his bride to get there. Belinda looked for Hermione.  
  
"Miss Granger?" Belinda asked and the noise level dropped. Everyone looked around for the bride. "Miss Granger?" she repeated, a feeling of dread snaked its way towards her body.  
  
"I think she's still in her room." One of the staff offered.  
  
Belinda quickly made her way toward the room Hermione was in. She opened the door and peeked inside. "Miss Granger? Are you in here?"  
  
Silence. Belinda opened the door fully and looked around the room, no once was there. The bridal gown was gone and all Hermione's clothes were unpacked. Belinda panicked at the thought that she might have been kidnapped. Unable to think of any more possibilities, she ran out the room and, despite all common sense telling her not to, she ran towards the altar, towards Ron.  
  
"Mr. Weasley." She said, catching her breath.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I think Hermione's gone."  
  
"WHAT?!" Ron exclaimed. Everyone quieted down and watched as Ron made his way toward the back, where Hermione's room was located.  
  
She can't have gone. maybe she. Ron's train of thought trailed off as he slowly entered Hermione's room. "Hermione?" He called out. His voice was strained and maybe a bit afraid. He walked in the room slowly, as if anticipating something. He let out a frustrated sigh. Where was she?  
  
His brown eyes scanned the whole room, then they caught on something. His heart pounding and chest beginning to tighten, he walked slowly toward the vanity. He was filled with dread as to what he was about to see. He hoped that it was just his mind playing with him, that it was just in his imagination. But it wasn't. Slowly, he bent his head in anger, sadness and frustration.  
  
Hermione's diamond engagement ring sat in the vanity. 


	3. Into the Arms of a Lord

Author's Note: I would just like to take this time to say thank you to Serpent du Feu, who was the first to ever give me a review. Thank you, you have made my day! To my other reviewers, thanks and thanks again! I'm smiling like crazy just because of you! Once again, please read and review! Please forgive me if I'm not consistent with the language they use before. I will just use our language, except maybe for "Nay" and "Aye" in a few cases. I'll be throttled by my History teacher because I'm rewriting history. hope you won't mind. Sorry! And now, on with the story!  
  
Chapter 3: Into the Arms of a Lord  
  
Hermione opened her tired and weary eyes, feeling as though she had just come from an immense battle, very much like the stories she had read during the past. She blinked a few times, disoriented with her surroundings. She tried to remember what happened.  
  
*  
  
She was sitting at the vanity, merely contemplating on what was about to happen within a few minutes. She was also, in the deepest part of her heart, wishing that she were in another time, in another place. All of a sudden, a strange mist began to appear in the room. Startled, Hermione got up from the chair and began to pace backwards.  
  
The mist was getting bigger, she did not know where it came from or what it actually was, but there was no time for her to be curious. She paced backward until she hit the door. Reaching back, she held the doorknob and started to open it. that's when she was quickly enveloped in the strange mist. It was not cold, nor damp. It was kind of tingly and warm, making her smile. She was instantly reminded of a book she read that described a woman's first real kiss was of a warm, tingly feeling that enveloped you.  
  
The feeling was intoxicating. Hermione quickly began to feel drowsy. Without warning, she dropped to the floor and slept.  
  
*  
  
Hermione stirred slightly, then was shocked to find out that the sound she had been hearing all the while was the sound of a slight breeze, rustling the grass.  
  
Grass? Hermione thought wildly. There was no grass in the room. There couldn't be any grass inside the room. Could there? She tried desperately to orient herself, but her efforts were futile.  
  
It was at that exact moment that she heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps falling on the soft earth and that were getting louder and louder. Its owner was getting nearer and nearer to her. Overcome with fear and much confusion as to why she was outside, Hermione could only stay still and close her eyes, hoping that her 'attacker' or whoever it was, would not notice her.  
  
But she was wrong.  
  
On two counts. One, her 'attacker' noticed her and was coming toward her in a curious pace. And two, this was no attacker. At least, not yet.  
  
"My lord, my lord!" Said the man as he came to a halt, a few feet beyond Hermione's state. He had a deep and growling voice, but somehow, Hermione's fear and anxiousness lessened slightly.  
  
She wondered, why in God's name would a man be calling another man 'lord' in this day and age? It seemed as if these men were from another period or something. Maybe they're insane. She concluded in her mind.  
  
"Aye?" Answered another man. Hermione felt a sudden chill down her spine with that one single word. Though it was not the exact word itself, it was the way it was said. The voice was rich, deep and immensely masculine. And powerful enough to let Hermione know that this was the lord the other man was talking about.  
  
But how could she have gotten here? Here in God knows where and with God knows who. Still. Hermione continued to play dead and simply listen to the answers her 'companions' might provide her with.  
  
"A maiden, my lord." The man with the growling voice said.  
  
"What?" He answered irritably. Hermione noted that his voice, though rich and powerful, was somewhat faint, therefore meaning that he must be a quite a distance away.  
  
"A maiden, my lord." The man repeated. "A maiden, or perhaps an angel from the way she looks and the gown she wears."  
  
"You are out of your wits, man. No maiden dare come here, much more an angel, as you call her."  
  
"But my lord, what I see is right in front of me, and she is sleeping." The man insisted. "Will you not come and see for yourself?"  
  
There were a few silent moments before Hermione heard the sound of heavy and irritated footsteps making their way towards her. They stopped, from what Hermione assumed to be, a few feet away from her body.  
  
"See my lord?" The man offered.  
  
The man was unable to speak for a moment. He simply looked at the sleeping girl with an impassive expression on his face. His companion thought it best not to prod anymore. The lord took in the appearance of the beautiful girl that lay in his courtyard.  
  
"Is she alive?" He finally asked after a few moments of careful deliberation.  
  
"She is asleep, my lord. See the rise and fall of her chest." The man said quietly.  
  
Without any explanation, the lord began to walked slowly toward the sleeping girl. Hermione sensed this and figured out that it was now or never. She was about to open her eyes and look at him straight in the eye when he beat her to it.  
  
He crouched down beside her, then slowly reached out and touched her left cheek with the back of his forefinger. Hermione trembled slightly at the touch. Then, after saying a quick prayer, she opened her eyes. And she came in contact with the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. His eyes were stormy, much like the ocean during a hurricane. They were framed with long and dark eyelashes. Hermione could do nothing but gape at him for a few moments. She then looked at the rest of his face.  
  
He was incredibly handsome. Every feature well-defined and were seemingly painted by God himself. He had long, blond hair which fell across the sides of his face. Hermione's breath caught. He, in turn, drew back his hand, but not before a fleeting expression showed on his face. One which neither he nor she could determine at that moment.  
  
She slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position and took in a few deep breaths. The air smelled of earth and leather and. man. It was hard for any girl not to swoon at that moment, as the combined odors were not unpleasant. Once she overcame the nausea, she looked at the man with the long blond hair who was sitting next to her.  
  
"Where am I?" Hermione asked a little bleary eyed.  
  
"Where no lady should dare come unannounced and uninvited." He answered in a flat tone. Hermione looked to his companion for help.  
  
"Where am I?" She repeated. Her throat was dry and so she swallowed as she waited for the man to answer.  
  
"You are, my lady, in the courtyard of the Malfoy castle." He answered in a kind way.  
  
"Which part of the map is it located?" Hermione asked.  
  
"In Brittany." He supplied.  
  
"France?!" She exclaimed. Her mouth dropped and she found it hard to breathe. I can't be in France. She thought. I was just in England, like about a few minutes ago!  
  
"Yes." The man said kindly.  
  
"And who are you?" She asked.  
  
"Allow me to introduce myself," The man sitting next to her interrupted. He then rose up to his full height, which was imposing to say the least. "Lord Draco Malfoy."  
  
"And I, my lady, am Sir Gregory Goyle, right hand man to my lord." The other one answered.  
  
"And who might you be?" Draco asked.  
  
And what to make of these lords and sirs? Hermione wondered, then realized that Lord Draco was expecting an answer. "Hermione Granger." She said simply, making a big effort to smile.  
  
Both men looked on each other with confused expressions. While Hermione was rubbing her temples.  
  
"Granger?" Draco asked and his brow furrowed. "I do not remember any man or woman called Granger. Why are you here?"  
  
"Actually, I don't know." Hermione answered.  
  
"What?" Draco demanded in a harsh tone. That harsh tone, coupled with Hermione's escalating headache made her snap back at him.  
  
"I don't know how I got here, okay?" And she put her head in her hands.  
  
"Are you a spy?" Draco asked.  
  
"Spy?" Hermione repeated, incredulous. "I don't know what you're talking about. I am no spy. Why would I be a spy for someone who I don't really know. and besides, I don't know how I got here!"  
  
"Your temper should be kept in check." Draco warned.  
  
"Well, I've got a splitting headache and a nagging confusion and a man who irks me." She snapped back. She then decided that it was enough to be sitting around with this imposing man looking at her strangely. "A little help, please?" She asked and he held out his hand and pulled her to her feet without much ado.  
  
"Thank you." She said curtly. As she brushed off her clothing. and realized that she was wearing her wedding dress. Or what was left of a wedding dress, seeing as it was soiled into a murky brown. She sighed in disgust. As she was brushing off the front of the gown, she noticed something.  
  
Her engagement ring was gone.  
  
Clapping a hand over her mouth for a moment then she looked down on the ground for it. She kept her head down, wondering where that ring went off to. She was moving around in circles when she felt a pair of strong hands grab her shoulders and stop her. Then, she was turned to face him.  
  
And for the second time that day, all she could do was gape and stare at the most incredible man she'd ever seen. She noticed that her head was level to his nicely-shaped mouth, and she was still wearing those three- inch heels. Then, she took the time to notice what he was wearing: chain mail and woolen tights. The hilt of a sword was on his left side.  
  
Chain mail? Tights? Swords?  
  
"What is this game now?" He asked sarcastically.  
  
Immediately, all attraction towards him left her as she gritted her teeth in frustration. "No game. I was looking for something." She answered as she twisted away from his grasp.  
  
Slightly taken aback, he kept his hands at his sides. His hands were clenched into fists.  
  
"If you'll just answer one more question, then I might be of some use to you." Hermione baited.  
  
He nodded and waited for her question.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath and prayed that her suspicions were wrong. "What is today's date?"  
  
"The sixth of October." He answered.  
  
"And what year?" She asked, her heart pounding wildly.  
  
"I thought you said just one more question?" He informed her, raising an eyebrow. Hermione could swear that she heard his companion snicker, which heightened her anger. But she kept a cool front.  
  
"Well, you gave me an incomplete answer!" She retorted.  
  
"Fine." He compromised. "Thirteen hundred and seventy-five."  
  
It took her a while to digest all information he'd given her. 1375? Hermione thought and suddenly, the world tilted. Without much warning to her fellow companions, she passed out and dropped straight to the ground.  
  
"My lady!" Sir Goyle exclaimed. But Draco's reflexes were faster. He caught her long before she was to hit the ground and scooped her up into his arms as he straightened up.  
  
"Goyle, tell the servants to open the door." He ordered as he started to walk back to his castle, Hermione's sleeping body in his arms.  
  
As he walked the distance, he took the time to really look at her. And, unexplainably, his chest tightened at the very sight of her. Her hair was getting loose from the twist and it flowed down her face. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her skin creamy, her lips pink and slightly dry, her eyelashes long. And how was it possible for him not to notice how beautiful her hazel eyes were when she opened them.  
  
He stopped looking at her long enough to see that the heavy wooden doors to his castle had been opened and a servant went out to greet him.  
  
"My lord!" Mathilde, a kind and motherly woman, exclaimed as she saw them.  
  
"Prepare the guest chamber, Mathilde." He said quietly.  
  
"Yes, my lord." Then went up the stairs quickly, with Draco following slowly. Up the wide and expansive stone staircase, he went, careful not to jostle Hermione too much. He wasn't used to being chivalrous. In fact, he stayed away from women as much as possible. But with Hermione. he carried her as if she was made of pure glass.  
  
Once on the landing, he walked the last few feet to the first guest chamber which had a fire roaring in the grate and the bed ready for her. He went to on side of the bed and carefully deposited her on it. She stirred, but did not wake.  
  
Then, he summoned Mathilde to remove the soiled dress that she was currently wearing and dress her with one of his late mother's nightgowns. Mathilde nodded and quickly set off to work.  
  
Draco, in the meantime, took one last look at her sleeping face then went off to the hall to have a bit of drink. Hermione's face was not only imprinted deep into his mind, where he would not let anyone know that she affected him that much; it was also imprinted on his heart. 


	4. The Stirring of Truth

Author's Note: Thank you for all your reviews! I've been checking out a lot of books, hoping that I'm not going over with the actual facts in history. But, oh well. I know, Goyle as a knight? Well, I chose him because of his name; don't you think that Gregory is a good name for a knight? Well, I do! Oh, and I won't be using their language before, I feel uncomfortable with writing it. Sorry that this chapter only focuses on one scene. I'll let Hermione roam around the castle by the next chapter. Any suggestions are welcome, so please... read and review!  
  
Chapter 4: The Stirring of Truth  
  
The lord was awake long before any of the servants were, the next morning. He had a hard time sleeping. He kept on wondering who this woman was and what her purpose here was. More importantly, why was she affecting him this much?  
  
It was almost midnight when he retired to his bed chamber, after a drink with his most trusted friend, Sir Gregory Goyle. He and Goyle had met during a brawl with some men who were passing through the land. Draco had been challenged, unarmed and alone, to face ten ruffians. Draco, having years that are testament to his skill with the blade and with his bare hands, had accepted. He was about to face the leader of the gang, when a man came rushing through the other ruffians, drawing his sword and managing to unarm most of them. It had been a young Gregory Goyle.  
  
That event started their ten-year friendship. Goyle had once been offered lordship in another land, but he blatantly refused it. His loyalty to his friend ran far deeper than his quest for power. And in gratitude, Draco had given Goyle a part of his castle.  
  
They talked about what happened during the day. About finding Hermione lying in the grass, mistaken by Goyle for an angel fallen from heaven. He laughed at his own folly, being more adept to smile and give a kind remark to people who helped him. Draco however, merely smirked. Having gone through so much during his childhood, others doubted that he could ever learn how to smile or laugh.  
  
Not that it bothered him.  
  
And now, he was simply sitting on the chair in his bed chamber, staring into the fire and thinking. He could've easily pursued his suspicion of Hermione and accuse her of being a spy of the enemy. But somehow, he believed her confusion and shock. It was of some inane reason, one which he could not place or name.  
  
He tried another approach. After all, he could simply ask her when the time was right. But now it was time for deeper matters. Why in Sweet Mary's sake did he feel different around her?  
  
Draco was not a passionate man. But he was not inexperienced either. He found enough satisfaction in the whores that his comrades sometimes pushed upon him, but beyond that, he never cared much for women. He thought them plain and uninteresting, uneducated in a sense. He loved only one woman in his life and that was his mother. Unfortunately, due to circumstances which he would not bring up, she had died five years earlier. After her death, he became more ruthless and more unfeeling. Many doubted if he had a heart at all. Most doubted that he had a soul.  
  
But if he had no soul or heart, why then did he feel a racing of his pulse whenever he thought about her? Get a hold of yourself, man! He chided himself. She does not affect you any more than an enemy unseen or unheard from. It is simply the nerves that get you like this!  
  
He stayed in that position for most of the night. And so, when dawn broke, he was in a foul mood. He bathed shortly thereafter then went down to the courtyard for a breath of fresh air.  
  
* * *  
  
Hermione woke up to a slight rustle of a skirt. She woke, but did not open her eyes. She tried to listen to the sounds around her and see if she was dreaming or it had all been true. She heard nothing. And so, she finally opened her eyes.  
  
"Good morning, my lady." Said a kind-voiced, elderly woman who Hermione assumed to be the housekeeper or castle-keeper, for that matter.  
  
Hermione blinked once or twice before slowly pulling herself up into a sitting position. She turned to the kind woman and smiled. "Good morning to you too..."  
  
"I'm Mathilde, my lady. Lord Draco's servant. He has told me to keep an eye on you today." Mathilde answered.  
  
"Oh, well, thank you, I think..." Hermione smiled then looked around and gasped. She was in one of the most beautiful rooms she'd ever seen, medieval or not. The huge four-poster bed was draped with white, crisp linen that gave a sort of light and airy feeling. Although the walls were made of stone, the huge window on the left of the bed provided enough light for the whole room to be bright and inviting. Hermione also noticed that a fire was burning in the fireplace.  
  
"Oh dear!" Mathilde suddenly exclaimed, making Hermione remove her eyes from her beautiful surroundings and back to Mathilde. "You must be hungry, my lady... Forgive me. I will be back with your breakfast." And she was off before Hermione had a chance to say anything else.  
  
Hermione then smiled at Mathilde's sudden departure. She took the time to examine the room more closely. She took quick note of the architectural layout, marveling at how innovative medieval people were, despite the beliefs of her history professors during her school days. Hermione shook her head, thinking about the time when her professor made a comment about the Middle Ages, saying that they were uncivilized and barbaric. Maybe he should have come here, instead of me, and they'll make him eat his words! Hermione thought gleefully.  
  
She was about to get up from the bed and proceed to look outside the window when the door to her room suddenly opened. In went Mathilde, carrying a bed tray and Hermione's breakfast... and a look that reprimanded her in an instant.  
  
"Oh no, my lady, my lord had ordered me for you not to leave that bed and I intend on following him." She scolded as she neared Hermione and deposited the tray of Hermione's lap.  
  
Hermione chuckled at the woman. Mathilde then smiled at the genuine laugh that Hermione have her, thinking that it was the first time that she heard a woman's laugh in quite some time.  
  
"Eat now, my lady. Otherwise lord Draco would be most unpleased."  
  
"Oh, Mathilde, I would mean no disrespect to lord Draco, but really, I don't think I have to be watched over like a little child. Especially by him." Hermione said, her eyes twinkling.  
  
"Oh? Then would you explain to me why you felt the urge to faint yesterday?" A voice asked. This was no servant talking. It was lord Draco himself.  
  
Hermione turned toward the sound and found him leaning on the doorway, hands crossed over his chest and watching her intently.  
  
"My lord." Mathilde greeted, and promptly bowed. Hermione simply watched, not knowing what to do. Should she bow? Should she acknowledge him? Good heavens, where was a book about medieval manners when you need one?  
  
And so, she simply dropped her eyes, unable to do anything else.  
  
"You may leave, Mathilde. I wish to speak with our guest." Draco said, lifting himself up from the doorway and walking towards the bed.  
  
"Yes, my lord." Mathilde said, bowing once again and leaving the room, closing the door behind her. Once she was out however, she looked back at the closed door and wondered who this woman was... and why was lord Draco acting so strange?  
  
"Good morning to you, fair maiden. I trust you slept well?" He asked smoothly.  
  
"Yes, thank you." Hermione answered. Draco dragged a chair over to the side of the bed and seated himself. His gaze never wavered.  
  
"Forgive me, but, you should be eating right now. You're weak and fatigued." He drawled. "Unless, you need to be spoon fed."  
  
Hermione did her best not to fully lash out on him. How dare he! How dare he assume her current state was, just because she fainted yesterday! If he thinks that just because a woman faints, she's weak for life, then I'm about to show him what I'm really made of! She said to herself in grim determination.  
  
She glared at him and he simply raised an eyebrow. "I can feed myself, thank you very much." She said curtly.  
  
"Indeed." Then he was silent. She looked at him, expecting him to continue. He just continued to look at her innocently. "Well? Aren't you going to eat?"  
  
Hermione was dumbfounded for a moment. What was he playing at? He was going to watch her as she ate? Well...! She took long deep breaths to get her temper under control. He wasn't lying before when he told her to keep her temper in check, she was very hot tempered.  
  
And so, she picked up her spoon and ladled her broth. She blew on it a few times before she placed it on her lips. The broth was delicious. She smiled then continued to eat.  
  
Draco was merely observing her. He continued to watch her as she ate, blowing at times when the broth was too hot. He let his eyes travel down to her body, clothed in his mother's favorite nightgowns. He was tempted to smile at the memory of his late mother, who used to hug and kiss him when he was but a small child, scared of the nightmares that haunted him in his sleep. But that temptation was quickly put to an end, for his guest had spoken.  
  
"You know, it is quite rude for man to simply watch a woman eat." She said nonchalantly. She looked at him.  
  
"I am merely making sure that my guest is well fed and nourished." He replied.  
  
"Oh." Hermione said sarcastically. "Well, there must be some other reason why you chose to grace me with your presence."  
  
"There is... but wouldn't you rather finish your food?"  
  
"I think I am done, thank you."  
  
"Well then, if you would permit me..." As he rose up from the chair and neared her. He then bent down slightly. Hermione did not know what he was about to do. She stiffened and watched him like a hawk.  
  
He was bending down and now he was reaching out toward her. Hermione's heart raced, wondering still what he was meaning to do.  
  
Is he going to kiss me? She asked herself as she watched him. He was close enough for her to smell his scent and drown in it. He was looking at her straight in the eye and she was lost in the color. He was still reaching out, Hermione expected him to take her hand and pull her towards him...  
  
But, she was left humiliated and ashamed at her own thoughts when he merely grasped the bed tray and lifted it off her. Then, he turned and placed the tray on a nearby table. After that, he sat back down on the chair.  
  
Hermione let out an irritated breath. Damn him!  
  
But when she looked at him, he wasn't laughing or even smirking. He was simply looking at her with an innocent expression on his face. Obviously, he didn't mean to humiliate her, merely removing the impeding bed tray so she was comfortable. Hermione scolded herself harshly for letting her mind make a fool of her.  
  
"Are you alright? You look pale..." He brought up.  
  
"I'm fine." She said quickly. Not meeting his gaze, lest he would notice another color other than pale that showed up on her face.  
  
"Very well, can I know ask you a few questions?"  
  
Oh no, the inevitable question and answer... But she nodded.  
  
"Good. Why did you faint yesterday?"  
  
Oh trust him to be blunt and straightforward! Hermione thought. "Well, I was shocked."  
  
"Why were you shocked?"  
  
"Because of the year..."  
  
"Why should you be shocked of the year?" There was something in his eyes, amusement, Hermione concluded.  
  
She took a deep breath, wondering if she should tell him. She was longing for answers as well. One question being: how was she able to travel to the year 1375 when just yesterday, she was getting ready for her wedding in the year 2003?  
  
"If I tell you the truth, would you promise one thing?" She looked at him, her eyes pleading.  
  
Draco had no choice but to agree to her plea. One look at her face and he found himself wishing that he could make right whatever was wrong. He wanted to scowl at his thoughts right then and there, but figured that Hermione would get the wrong idea. And so, he kept his face impassive.  
  
She took another deep breath. "Would you promise never to accuse me of something I'm not?"  
  
He looked at her hard. Then he nodded, that damn feeling was back and he had no choice but to agree with whatever she wanted. Damn! He thought as he waited for her to tell her tale.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"The tale?" He prompted.  
  
"Yes, I was getting to that..." Hermione paused and recollected her thoughts. "My name is Hermione Granger, daughter of Robert and Anne Granger. I am 24 years old."  
  
She looked at him and he nodded for her to continue.  
  
She took another deep breath. "Draco..." She called and he looked up, surprised. No one had ever called him by his name alone before, it was of mixed emotion when she said it. But, she paid his look of surprise with no mind other pressing matters were in her head. "Please do not interrupt me, no matter what I say... please do not interrupt me."  
  
"I won't." He replied. She looked at him gratefully.  
  
"Before you found me, or rather, when Sir Goyle found me, I was not in your time... Before he found me, I was not in the year 1375... I was in the year 2003." She closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her lips together, expecting him to shout and yell at her. When a few moments passed with silence, she slowly opened her eyes and relaxed. Then she looked at him.  
  
He was looking at her. And he was leaning forward. His eyes were looking at her in confusion. But he kept his promise when he refused to speak, even when a million questions were racing through his mind.  
  
"I was born in 1979..." Hermione continued. "For the most part of yesterday, I was in the year 2003. But then, I was whisked away to here... I don't know how I came here..."  
  
"Might I ask you something?" Draco spoke up.  
  
"Go on."  
  
"Are you mad?!" He exclaimed, rising up from his chair.  
  
"No! I don't know how I came here. But what I'm telling you is true! I'm from the future and I came here!"  
  
"No... It is simply impossible..."  
  
"I know it's impossible! You think I believe in time travel? Well, I don't, I never did until now, until it happened to me!" Hermione retorted, her voice rising.  
  
"What proof do you have? What proof can you give for me to actually believe that I am here talking to a woman who claims she's from the future?!"  
  
"Look at my clothes, the dress I was wearing yesterday. Look at my shoes!" Hermione pointed out, she was getting close to tears. She then reached toward her right ear and plucked her diamond earring. "Look at this" She said, handing the jewelry out to him. "You will not find any jewelry like that in here!"  
  
He inspected the earring closely. It was true, what she said, that there was no piece of jewelry like this in the land. And it possible that she might be from the future... but, like true Malfoy fashion, he refused to believe it.  
  
"You expect me to believe that you are from the future just because of a few things?" He asked her, handing back the earring.  
  
Hermione stared at him in disbelief, then lost it. "What more do you want?!" She cried out. The tears were threatening to spill out. "I am here, all alone... my parents are probably beside themselves out of worry! I have nothing and I don't what to do..." And with that acceptance of her helplessness, the tears began to flow.  
  
Draco stiffened, he had not expected tears. He did not know how to comfort a crying woman... hell, he didn't know how to comfort at all. But she was crying... and it was up to him to pacify her. Taking a deep breath, he walked nearer her, reached out and touched her arm.  
  
"Don't cry... I'll believe you." Draco said immediately regretting the words, but he had no choice. She quieted for a moment, then lifted her head. Draco's breath caught but he refused to show it.  
  
Hermione smiled up at him through her tears. "Thank you."  
  
He nodded, then removed his hand from her arm. "Go and get some rest..."  
  
"Okay."  
  
He didn't know what the word was exactly, but he had a feeling it was a form on saying yes. And so, he went towards the door and opened it. As he was about to step out, he was hindered by a soft calling of his name. He looked back and saw her laying on her side, watching him leave.  
  
"Thank you, Draco." She said.  
  
"You're welcome, Hermione." 


	5. Medieval Life

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for your reviews, they're a great help! Okay, to clear up some confusion, (thanks, harrypotterwanter!) Hermione was not allowed to leave her bed because of the reason that she fainted just a few hours back. I'm guessing that's how they treat it during those times. (Sorry, haven't done much research on this.) Anyways, thanks for all the reviews, please keep them coming! If you have any suggestions, please let me know, it would be a great help! And now, with the story!  
  
Chapter 5: Medieval Life  
  
Only after a couple hours' more of sleep was Hermione able to get up from bed. It was, by her calculation, twelve noon, as noted by the increase in temperature. Swinging her legs off the bed and getting up, she smoothed out her clothing. Only then did she realize what she had been sleeping in - a beautifully embroidered white linen nightgown.  
  
Now, why would a grumpy and immensely sarcastic medieval lord have this kind of nightgown lying around his castle? Hermione wondered. Running her hands through her hair in a vain attempt to remove the tangles, she then walked over to the huge window off to the side of the room and peered out.  
  
She had to squint at first, the harsh fall sunlight hurting her sleepy eyes, but when she finally adjusted to the glare, she smiled at the sight before her. Her view was of the castle gardens. She also wondered why would this particular lord, whose attitude was of rather dark qualities, have this beautiful garden? The garden was littered with flowers and there were herbs off to one side of it. To Hermione, it looked like a place for two lovers to meet and kiss.  
  
Unfortunately for me, Hermione thought, it looks like there'll be no passionate kiss under the stars while I'm here. Subconsciously, her mind drifted off to Draco. She thought on how he looked, wearing what medieval people wear: woolen tunics and tights. His shoulder-length blonde hair was free from any bonds and for a second all Hermione wanted to do was run her hands through them.  
  
Suddenly, the door of her room opened, causing her to snap out of her little daydream and flushing a deep red. She turned to a somewhat horrified gasp and relaxed. Hermione turned to Mathilde and smiled at the old lady's reaction.  
  
"My lady. you should not be up yet...!" Mathilde exclaimed.  
  
"Hush, please..." Hermione said, in an effort to calm the woman down. "I am quite alright, Mathilde. And please, call me Hermione. All this 'my lady' is too much for me to handle right now."  
  
"Of course, my..." Mathilde hesitated. "Of course, Hermione." She smiled up at Hermione.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"I was sent here to see if you were hungry." Mathilde said.  
  
"By lord Draco?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Aye, Hermione."  
  
Hermione pursed her lips. "I think, Mathilde, that what I would like now, is a nice bath. Except, I don't have any other clothes with me."  
  
"Oh... then a bath you shall have. I will send a handmaiden to help you. As for your clothes, I will find some that will fit you." Mathilde replied.  
  
"Thank you, Mathilde." Hermione exclaimed, going to where the old woman was standing and giving her a light kiss on the cheek in gratitude.  
  
"Aye, my lady." Mathilde replied, waving her hand at Hermione to say that she didn't care about the look Hermione was giving her. "You are most welcome."  
  
And with that, Mathilde bowed slightly and went out of the room in a hurried fashion, calling for a handmaiden. Hermione shook her head in amusement and happiness. Within a few minutes, a shy and petite girl went into Hermione's room.  
  
Half an hour later, Hermione was feeling refreshed and quite cool. The bath certainly removed the stickiness she'd been feeling all morning and was now ready to go out and take a tour of the castle. She'd been fitted with a beautiful yet simple forest green gown. Her hair was left down to dry and she wore leather slippers, much like the flat slip on sandals she used to wear before.  
  
She smiled at Rose, her handmaiden and thanked her for everything.  
  
"Oh no, my lady..." Rose assured. "The gown was picked by Lord Draco himself."  
  
Hermione felt the ground shift, but was assured that it was in her imagination. Her feet were firmly planted on the stone ground of her bedroom. Draco picked this? For me? Hermione thought wildly. She then smiled back at Rose, refusing to say anything other than words of gratitude.  
  
A polite clearing of the throat was heard and Hermione turned to the source. She smiled when she saw that it was Sir Gregory Goyle, his head slightly bent and his eyes warm, standing by the doorway.  
  
"Sir Gregory Goyle!" Hermione said brightly. He smiled back.  
  
"Please, my lady, call me Goyle. I am not used to hearing my full name being used." He replied.  
  
"Sir Goyle." Hermione compromised and Goyle's smile widened.  
  
"My lady, I come, on Lord Draco's behalf, to escort you to lunch. Seeing as you are well, despite the fainting spell you've suffered through yesterday."  
  
"I thank you for your concern, Sir Goyle, I am quite well right now." Hermione hesitated but asked him anyway. "Permit me, but why on Lord Draco's behalf?"  
  
"Ah, he has been busy all morn. He expresses his regret of not being a proper host and coming to fetch you himself, but he will join us for lunch. You must be hungry..." Goyle supplied.  
  
"Well, yes and thank you for being so kind as to escort me, Sir Goyle."  
  
With that, Goyle offered Hermione a beefy arm and Hermione gladly took it. Together, they set out for the dining hall. The corridor of the floor where Hermione's room was situated was wide, Hermione roughly estimated it to be about ten feet across. It was lit with wall torches that assumedly were never put out. It was only a few feet till the circular staircase and Hermione's eyes widened when she reached it. It was expansive and completely made out of stone. It was really beautiful.  
  
Careful as not to cause her to trip, Goyle started down the staircase. Soon, they were on the landing. Hermione looked around the room and her mouth went agape at the sight. The hall was big and airy, the ceiling was two floors up. Opposite the staircase were three beautiful stained glass windows. Hermione could only make out one figure as a dragon when Sir Goyle subtly nudged her and they continued to make their way towards the dining hall.  
  
The dining hall was a little off to the side of the entrance hall, but it was not as grand. Wall torches lined up the hall and opposite those, were more windows. Hermione smiled at the overall layout. The long rectangular table could seat more than 25 people on each side from end to end. But today, only three settings were placed on the table. One was on the end, near another room which Hermione guessed as the kitchens. The other two were on either side.  
  
Hermione was led to her seat. Sir Goyle, obviously reliving his chivalry training, pulled out the heavy chair for her and ushered her to sit. But before she could even sit, heavy footsteps reverberated throughout the hall. Hermione and Goyle turned towards the sound and saw the lord himself walking towards them, coming from an opposite path of the dining hall.  
  
Draco strode towards them in an unhurried fashion. He nodded briefly to Goyle and he nodded as well. Draco then turned his attention towards Hermione. He acknowledged her then let his eyes travel her whole length. She was in one of his mother's gowns, the dress fitting her perfectly. He'd specifically told Mathilde to take one of his mother's gown and fit it to her. Mathilde looked quite schocked, but then Draco assured her that it was only until the handmaiden could sew an appropriate day dress for Hermione.  
  
He'd assumed, from what she'd told him a few hours ago, that she would be staying here. And in a strange way, he felt glad that she wasn't going anywhere.  
  
"My lady, Sir Goyle." He's acknowledged as he stopped a few feet from them.  
  
"My lord." Hermione said, slightly bowing. When she looked up, she saw Draco looking at her intently. His gaze made her flush a deep red and she didn't know why. Goyle then bowed at Draco and proceeded to go to his side of the table.  
  
Draco stepped forward and held Hermione's chair out for her. He ushered her to sit, never taking his eyes off her. Hermione sat and busied herself with smoothing out the folds of her skirt in an attempt to alleviate his gaze. Draco went to his chair, which was at the head of the table. At his command, the food was served and they began to eat.  
  
Hermione sat and ate quietly, answering only the questions addressed to her. She refused to look up though. Soon, Draco and Goyle were talking to each other.  
  
"My lord." Goyle began, dropping his voice so that Hermione would not hear.  
  
"What?" Draco asked.  
  
"Have you gotten any information about her?" He asked, referring to Hermione.  
  
"I have. But I will not say. She has told me in confidence."  
  
"I see." Goyle said, stifling his smile. "Well then, my lord. I think that you should offer to take her around the castle, seeing as she should get to know the parts."  
  
Draco glared at him for a moment, then shifted his gaze towards Hermione. She was still eating with her head down.  
  
"Now?" Draco asked, turning back to Goyle.  
  
"Aye, my lord, after the meal."  
  
"I cannot, I have many things to do..."  
  
"Ah, but my lord, consider them done. I will personally see to your affairs." Goyle offered. Before Draco could put up an argument, the knight spoke up again, "My lord, it is but proper that the owner of the castle should give a tour to his guest."  
  
After much thinking, Draco nodded, much to the pleasure of his friend.  
  
He waited until the meal was over, then took a deep breath before asking her. After clearing his throat, he spoke. "My lady?"  
  
Hermione, who was merely playing with the handle of her fork, jumped when she heard him call her. She looked up in quite a shock and looked at Draco, but not before glaring at Goyle who was shaking in silent laughter. He promptly shut up when she glared at him.  
  
"My lord?" She replied, turning her attention to the man by her side.  
  
"Would you like a tour of the castle?"  
  
Hermione sat, stunned. Then, after a few moments of letting the information sink in, a smile began to form on her mouth. When she looked at Draco with that smile, he was unable to catch his breath.  
  
"Yes, I would..." She replied, smiling more. "Are you going to take me, my lord?"  
  
"Aye." He said, nodding. He was half-afraid that she would scowl in displeasure when she'd learned that he was going to take her, but, if it were possible, her smile widened even more. He relaxed.  
  
"Great! Um... when do we go?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Right now... if that suits you."  
  
"It suits me." Hermione said excitedly. Draco could almost smile, but much bitterness was ingrained in him for him to smile readily. Instead, he stood up from his chair and walked over to Hermione and pulled her chair for her. Looking first as Goyle, who had stood up as well, he held out a hand to Hermione.  
  
Oblivious to the fact that this was probably his first time of offering his hand to a woman, she gladly took it and Draco easily got her on her feet. Then, he offered his arm out to her. She took it.  
  
After saying their goodbyes to Goyle, they slowly made their way around the huge castle. Sir Goyle smiled to himself and thought. Aye, it is a good thing Lady Hermione made her way here... Lord Draco, know it he might not, needs someone to give life to his heart.  
  
And with that, Goyle made his way to accomplish his lord's duties. 


	6. Touring

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! They're a great help! And, as I have been insisting for the past chapters, please read and review! Oh yeah, I'm sorry, but I just HAD to use one incident from Lynn Kurland! I'm sorry, but I just couldn't resist! Anyway, on with the tale!  
  
Chapter 6: Touring  
  
Hermione was led first into the inner bailey, which was where Draco came from when he came into the dining hall for lunch. She wondered why she never saw it before, as the inner bailey was the main part of the castle. Before they went at close proximity to the place, Hermione could distinctly hear the clashing of swords and the grunts and howls of men. Her heart beat a bit faster, anxiety stealing its way into her body. She was hesitant.  
  
But Draco, never adept to a woman's concerns, walked her along.  
  
And soon, Hermione was faced to scores of men, dirty and sweaty and engaged in some sort of battle. Hermione gasped aloud when she saw them, and reflexively pulled on Draco's arm and stopped dead in her tracks. He stopped walking and looked at her.  
  
"What ails you?" He asked. Then, finally noticing her state, he quickly reassured her. "Trust me, these fellows will do you no harm. They are my men, they are simply training. And if they ever plan to do you any harm, they are not able to pursue it."  
  
"Why is that?" Hermione asked, still somewhat agitated. She looked up at him.  
  
"Because you are with me." He said in a flat voice. But Hermione heard the tinge of sincerity in them.  
  
And with that, she calmed down and turned to look at them again. But this time, they seemed to have noticed their lord and promptly stopped all their activities, partly because their lord was about to speak, and partly because they got a glimpse of Hermione.  
  
Whether it was the fact that a beautiful lady was in their midst, or that they saw this beautiful lady with their lord, one could not determine the root of the men's sudden incapacity to move.  
  
Lord Draco stepped up. "Hear me, this is Lady Hermione. She is a guest. I trust that you would treat her with the utmost respect that Sir Goyle has been drilling into your heads for the past years."  
  
A chorus of "Aye's" was heard, along with a chorus of "Good morrow's." shyly directed to her. Hermione eased and smiled at all of them. Once the introductions were through, Draco sent them back into their training. The men went back, but made their training quieter.  
  
"My lord?" Hermione spoke up as they walked further along the courtyard.  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"Where did you find me, or rather, where did Sir Goyle find me?"  
  
Draco nodded and walked her over to where they found her. The place was just a little off to the side of the gatehouse. It was incredibly lucky that Lord Draco and Sir Goyle were doing their nightly rounds of the castle grounds when they'd found her. Otherwise, she would have been mistaken for an enemy by the lord's own guards and soldiers.  
  
"Here." Draco pointed out.  
  
Hermione stared at it as if it held the answers to her questions. A million thoughts flooded her mind, consisting mostly of her family and what they were doing right now. Hermione's father was the CEO of a company in London. She wondered how he must be handling the situation of his only daughter's disappearance. Hermione also thought about her mother... that she must be beside herself with worry. Hermione fought the impulse to cry. Interestingly, no thoughts of Ron or the wedding came into her mind until she remembered her engagement ring.  
  
Without warning, she crouched down on the ground, much to Draco's surprise. He said not a word, it was not his style of exclaiming when surprised. And so, he contented himself to just watch her. She seemed to be looking for something.  
  
"What are you looking for?" He asked after a few minutes of watching her feel the grassy ground and scan it. She jumped, quiet startled. She seemed to have forgotten that he was with her.  
  
Mustering a smile, she turned to him and stood up, brushing off her hands. "Nothing important, my lord."  
  
"Perhaps a key on how to get back to your world?" He asked, dreading the answer, much to his own confusion.  
  
Hermione was silent for a moment. Why was she looking for her engagement ring? Unable to answer that particular question, she focused on Draco's query instead. "No, my lord. I don't know how I got here and so, I don't know how to get back." She smiled up at him. "It was not on my mind for me to look for an answer on how to get back."  
  
Draco digested the answer and unexplainably, the trepidation seemed to lift. He nodded, then offered again his arm to her. She took it, and they continued the tour.  
  
"Gatehouse, barbican..." He then pointed up, "Walkway."  
  
"Oh, I've read about these..." Hermione spoke up. "For defense, the gatehouse probably leads to an outer bailey. Am I right?"  
  
"Aye, you are correct."  
  
She smiled.  
  
"Chapel," He said, pointing to a medium-sized building which had those beautiful stained glass windows. "But, I must tell you now, that is hardly used."  
  
She turned to him, a confused look on her face. "Why not?"  
  
"I have no priest, as of the moment." He replied.  
  
Hermione laughed... and he could not do anything but stare at her. Never had he seen such a beautiful woman laugh. The mere sound of it pierced his black heart and shed a pinprick of glorious light in his black soul. It was a pleasant feeling, he noted.  
  
When her laughter died down, he then walked her to the garden. The same garden was the one overlooked by Hermione's bedroom window. It was located just beyond the chapel through a narrow passageway, just off to the side of the castle's main building.  
  
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed as she saw the numerous shrubs, flowers and greenery. "You have such a beautiful garden, my lord."  
  
"I do not tend it, however..." He said, almost wistfully. Hermione felt that he lost something or someone very dear to him.  
  
"Oh, I see." Then, Hermione noticed something off to the side of the garden. "My lord, what is in there?"  
  
Draco turned to look. "Stables and a number of other animals as well."  
  
"Oh okay." Hermione said. Then, she looked up. It was only then that she noticed the impressive round tower that was situated in the very back of the whole castle. "My lord?"  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"What is in that round tower?"  
  
"That is my part of the castle." He replied.  
  
"Oh! But why at the back?" Hermione asked.  
  
"You shall see for yourself..." Draco answered mysteriously, much to Hermione's amusement. "Let us continued with the tour, shall we?"  
  
"Yes, my lord."  
  
From there, they made their way back to the entrance hall of the castle. This time, Hermione paid much notice and attention to every single detail of the castle. No portraits were hung on its walls, only those wall torches and different tapestries. The hall off to the side of the entrance hall, aptly named as the Great Hall was used to entertain guests and such. It was huge. And Hermione seemed to see more of those beautiful stained glass windows.  
  
She walked to the middle of the Great Hall, leaving Draco at the entrance. She stood in the middle and turned around in slow circles, always looking up at the stained glass windows that almost sparkled in the afternoon sun. She smiled, feeling very much like a little girl.  
  
Draco was in the shadows, refusing to join her. He simply watched. He was doing a lot of watching, he noted glumly, but still fascinated with her. He still couldn't understand the racing of his heart, the clamminess of his hands and the hint of a smile making its way to his mouth whenever he was near her...  
  
"You have a beautiful castle, my lord." Hermione said, bounding over to where Draco was, snapping him back to reality.  
  
"Ah... yes. But you have not seen it all, Lady Hermione." Draco replied.  
  
"I know... but so far, I like what I see." Hermione smiled then took his arm. "I want to see more of it." She said, almost dragging him in the process.  
  
But Draco, never the one to be dragged, lady or not, slowed her pace and led her to up the circular stairway into the second floor of the castle.  
  
After showing her the other rooms; one, in the far corner of the castle was Sir Goyle's; he then led her to the one part of the castle which Hermione would only name as a loft.  
  
The 'loft' overlooked the inner bailey, the gatehouse and barbican, the keep (which was off to one side of the castle0 and part of the outer bailey, which housed some peasants. Once you got past those, however, what you saw was only the beauty of Mother Nature. Hermione stood in awe as she saw the hundreds of trees, already turning their colors to those of fall.  
  
"It's beautiful, my lord!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
"And it provides me with a vantage point for possible attacks. Not that I've used this for that purpose as of yet."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"People think twice before attacking my defenses."  
  
"Oh." Hermione looked back at him, as he was staring out into the distance. She noticed his firm, almost clenched jaw that did not detract from his handsomeness, the scar which traveled from the left side of his neck down where his tunic covered it, the blonde hair being subtly blown by the breeze. She looked up into his eyes and saw something in them other than coldness. Something in his eyes was strong and steady, they reflected the castle itself. Powerful, unyielding. She had the feeling that he didn't lose many battles.  
  
And what would it be like to be the prize he fought for?  
  
Draco suddenly turned to her and Hermione snapped out of her reverie.  
  
"Where to next, my lord?" She asked, masking her creeping blush with a smile.  
  
"The tower." He said.  
  
"Let's go then."  
  
And so, they made their way around until they reached the very back of the castle. It was still brightly lit by the wall torches but the actual stairway to the top of the tower was quite dim. Hermione had to hold on tightly to Draco's arm and feel the wall to make sure that she wasn't going to fall or trip.  
  
Soon, they were on the landing. Draco opened the heavy wooden door of his room and stepped aside to let Hermione pass. Since it was quite bright, Hermione had to squint at first. But when her eyes adjusted, she smiled at the layout.  
  
This was no ordinary tower. It was large and very masculine, Hermione noted with amusement. From the entrance was a fireplace and a sitting area. A chess table was off to the side; Hermione went over to it and smiled at the chess pieces. They were fashioned of gold and silver.  
  
Off to the side, in a far corner of that part of the room, was a place where Draco had his weapons. Curious, Hermione walked over to it and inspected his numerous swords and daggers. Hermione noted about a dozen knives and daggers all laid out on a nearby table. About five swords, all sheathed in hard leather, were propped against the wall. One sword, however, was laid on a stone bench. The 'bench' was up to her waist, so she didn't think it was for sitting, but she didn't know what it was called. Either way, she wondered why this particular sword was on it.  
  
"My most favored sword." Draco spoke up, as if reading her thoughts.  
  
"Oh." Hermione said, then ran a finger on the hilt. When she tried to pick it up, she found out that it was simply too heavy.  
  
"Too heavy?" Draco asked her.  
  
"Yes, my lord." Hermione said, smiling. It was only then that she noticed the engraved figure on the hilt. It was a dragon. She stared in wonder. "Your emblem, my lord?"  
  
"Aye."  
  
She seemed to consider it, but then finally she said, "I like it." She looked over her shoulder, when her eyes came in contact with his, she smiled.  
  
Hermione then moved over to the other part of the room. Directly across the sitting area, was a huge bed with dark blankets and sheets. But what she was drawn to more, were the tower windows. Wide and unbarred, they seemed to invite any person to come and look out of them. And that she did.  
  
When she peered out, she gasped audibly at the view. It was of the sea... and right now, the sun was going down the horizon.  
  
"The view is beautiful, my lord." Hermione noted with wonder.  
  
"Aye, why do you think I chose this part of the castle as mine?" Draco said, walking over to where she was and stopping beside her. "That view can only be seen from here."  
  
"Oh..." Hermione replied.  
  
Both of them stood side by side in silence, simply watching the sun set. The colors streaked across the sky. The reds, oranges, yellows, pinks and purples were blended with the sky and seemed to come right out of an impressionist's painting.  
  
Draco watched as the sun set. He paid little attention to the colors, he was transfixed on the huge glowing fireball that was about to disappear in the horizon. His chest tightened and his hands clenched. He also had another reason of choosing this part of the castle: to remind him of the vow he had yet to fulfill.  
  
Hermione watched as the sun set. She remembered what was supposed to happen yesterday, back in her world. She was supposed to get married to Ron. But somehow, she was neither anxious nor afraid that she was far from him or that she could not be with him. She was more anxious of her parents, not knowing where she was and what had happened to her. She tried desperately to dredge up some feeling for Ron, some love for him... but she could not.  
  
Why? She asked herself. What does it mean?  
  
She turned again to Draco and felt more emotion for him than what she'd shown Ron all this time. Turning away from him yet again, refusing to believe that her heart was dead-set on the medieval lord, she forced all thoughts out of her head and focused on the vestiges of the sun.  
  
The temperature dropped and Hermione suddenly found herself shivering. Wrapping her arms around herself, she tried to generate heat, but was unsuccessful. Draco noticed this and suddenly left her side.  
  
Hermione wondered where he was off to without any explanation, but she did not follow him. In fact, she did not even turn her head, her thoughts still caught up with what she was feeling inside and why, despite her previous attempts of getting them out of her head. And suddenly, all thoughts and all internal and external feelings were soon gone as she felt something being slipped over her shoulders.  
  
She turned her head slightly and saw that Draco had draped a warm cloak over her shivering form. As she pulled the cloak tighter around her, his fingers pulled her hair free and let it flow down her back. She turned to face him... and they were soon staring deeply into each other's eyes, trying to read the thoughts of the other.  
  
Draco was looking at her intently, his breathing deep, hands slightly trembling. His eyes flickered over her face, as if searching for some sign of what she was feeling... or some answers to what he was feeling at that moment. Hermione too, was searching his face for signs; signs that spoke of what he was thinking. Then, Draco started to come closer to her, leaning in closer to her. Hermione's breathing stopped, waiting for what was about to happen next.  
  
But then, Draco snapped out of his stupor and drew back. Hermione blushed as she looked away from him.  
  
"I think that we should be heading down." Draco said in a low and soft voice, breaking the intense silence.  
  
"Yes." Hermione murmured.  
  
He offered again his arm to her, and together, they descended the tower.  
  
* * *  
  
Dinner was better than lunch, as Hermione was more at ease with her two companions. The entrance and dining hall's six fireplaces were lit and provided them with enough warmth and comfort. Wine was served, Goyle indulged himself enough in that, but amazingly, was unaffected by the effects. Draco also took part, but was careful not to take in too much.  
  
In Hermione's case, the wine was too strong. Draco watered it down for her. Goyle, watched the scene with interest and amusement. He would have to talk to Draco about this new attitude towards Hermione.  
  
After dinner, Hermione excused herself, saying that she was tired. Rose, her appointed handmaiden, quickly rushed over and accompanied her to her room after bidding the two men a goodnight.  
  
It was then, when Hermione was assumedly in her room, that Goyle struck.  
  
"How was the tour, Draco?" Goyle brought up. Draco turned to his friend and glared at him. Goyle raised his eyebrows in innocence.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"I trust that you showed her every part of the castle."  
  
"Aye."  
  
"This information about her..." Goyle began "It must be hard to believe, as you refuse to divulge it to me."  
  
"Aye, it is..." Draco replied. "Her tale is highly unlikely. It would be best if she told you herself."  
  
Goyle was silent for a moment; then asked him. "Do you believe her, Draco?"  
  
"I have a feeling that there is something amiss" Draco replied. "That something is terribly wrong." Yet it seems incredibly right, Draco added silently.  
  
"But do you believe her?" Goyle pressed.  
  
"I have a feeling that I shouldn't... after all, how could she enter the castle gates without anyone noticing? And how could she simply appear like that... but," Draco paused. "I have nothing else to believe... except that she is here. And, like it or not, I would do anything to make her stay." 


	7. Some Adjustments

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews! Well, it seems that many people have asked questions, and I intend to keep them in mind and answer them. The answers will come in due time, so please be patient. I did have a bit of a problem with this chapter, so if it does not fit up to the standards of a good chapter, then I apologize. Any suggestions would be welcome for later chapters would be welcome. And now, on with the next!  
  
Chapter 7: Some Adjustments  
  
Over the next week, Hermione was settling into medieval life. She was learning how to live in the conditions it presented to her. The using of the garderobe, (which took a little getting used to) the puttering in the kitchens from time to time and watching Cook, cook. She also learned her way around the huge castle - and made little touches to adorn her room.  
  
She took some flowers from the garden, after asking Draco's permission of course, and placed them in a vase and set it on the small table on her bedroom which she had appropriated as a desk. She continued to write, however. The quills and parchment took a little getting used to and sometimes, when she came down to eat; both Goyle and Draco would look in wonder why she had ink stains on her fingers and some on her dress.  
  
Clothing was still being lent to her by Rose and Mathilde. Although, Mathilde had come up with a few yards of cloth and was set on making new gowns for Hermione to wear.  
  
Hermione never spent more than a few minutes with Draco, except during mealtimes. He was always too busy with the training in the lists. She knew that it shouldn't bother her, but it did. Understandably, most of the times, she was in the house. Draco simply refused to let her out into the inner bailey without Rose, Mathilde, Goyle or himself by her side.  
  
A handful of broken bones, cuts and bruises from the men in training was enough to let Draco know that Hermione alone outside would be a complete disaster. She was too distracting. And that in itself was dangerous.  
  
And so, she contented herself with simply staring out the window of her bedroom and look at the garden.  
  
"My Lady?" Came a tentative and small voice from the entrance to her room. Hermione turned to look and saw that Rose was standing at the doorway, her eyes downcast.  
  
"What is it, Rose?"  
  
"Lord Draco has asked you to come down, my lady. It seems that he would want to speak with you about something". Rose supplied.  
  
"Oh..." Hermione said, nodding and following Rose out of the room. As they walked down the stairs, Hermione wondered why he would want to speak with her.  
  
As it turns out, Lord Draco was sitting on his usual spot at the dining table. He was in deep thought. When Hermione neared him, he stood up and regarded her with his usual nonchalance.  
  
"You asked for me, my lord." Hermione began. Rose took the time to bow to Lord Draco before she went off to the kitchens.  
  
"Aye, I did." Draco replied and pulled out her chair for her. Once she was seated, he went over to his side and sat down as well.  
  
Hermione waited for what he had to say.  
  
"Lady Hermione," He began, looking at her closely. "I must tell you that Mathilde has been called to do her duties as a midwife in a nearby town. She leaves today and would be gone for a few weeks."  
  
"Oh." Hermione said, not knowing where this conversation was leading to.  
  
"Now, because of this, I am asking you if you could take charge of her duties and run the castle."  
  
Hermione stared. Me? In charge of the castle? She thought. "But my lord, you are here... and I cannot simply take over-"  
  
"I am very well aware of that." Draco interrupted. "But seeing as it is my duty to train my men in the lists, I cannot be in charge of the household in this castle. As that is only for women."  
  
"But my lord..." She dropped her voice. She ignored his last comment as other matters were pressing at the moment. "You know very well that I do not know how to run a castle, considering what I told you a few days back... unless you have forgotten."  
  
"I have not forgotten and I have kept that in mind." Draco said flatly. "As I do not have any choice..."  
  
She knew she should have been honored by the fact he chose her to run the castle the only way she knew how, but she felt as if he simply chose her because he was that desperate for a housekeeper. She thought about her situation for a moment. On one side, she would so like to be useful and not seem like a burden upon the servants of the castle. She would learn firsthand about medieval life. She would also get to know the lives of other people as well.  
  
On the other hand, she felt that Draco was simply telling her this because he had no other choice. She had been told by Rose that Draco had no cares for women, in any social rank. She was also told, in confidence, that Draco had proclaimed one day in anger that women were absolutely worthless.  
  
The blood pounded in her ears. He was simply turning to her and telling her to run the castle because it was simply logical to do so... and he had no faith in women whatsoever. Feeling the determination well up inside her, she looked back up at him with the fire blazing in her eyes.  
  
She was going to prove to him that this was no ordinary girl... and she had the future's experiences and the intelligence to run the castle the best way she knew how.  
  
"I accept, my lord." She declared.  
  
"So you do." Draco replied. And without further ado, he got up and bowed slightly to her. He proceeded to make his way to the inner bailey in his usual unhurried stride.  
  
Hermione let out a breath in anger. She would show him; she would show him that she was capable of running this castle, with his help or no. Feeling the surge of adrenaline within her, she pushed back her chair and made her way to the kitchens, where undoubtedly, Mathilde would still be in.  
  
Pushing at the doors, she was greeted with the rest of the servants of the castle. They were all seated at the crude wooden table at the middle of the kitchen, talking amongst themselves. When she entered though, all conversations stopped and all stood up to greet her.  
  
"Please..." Hermione said quickly, "Please sit down..."  
  
"Lady Hermione-" Rose said.  
  
"Please, no more Lady Hermione. Lord Draco seems to have put me in my place." She interrupted, smiling at them. "Where is Mathilde?"  
  
"Here, my Lady." Mathilde said, coming out from an opposite entrance of the kitchen. She had her bag with her.  
  
"Mathilde!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing over to where the woman was and throwing her arms around her neck.  
  
"My Lady..." Mathilde said, laughing at the exuberance and underlying helplessness Hermione had shown. " I think I know."  
  
"You do?" Hermione drew back. The strong façade had left her and she was searching desperately for answers.  
  
"Aye... it seems that Lord Draco has not changed his ways."  
  
"What does he want, Mathilde?"  
  
"Ah, I do not know. It is possible that he had given you this task because there simply no other choice, but I believe that he has good intentions of giving it to you." The old woman said kindly.  
  
"Then it is true then, he has no belief in women?"  
  
"Aye, it is true."  
  
"Then what must I do? I feel that he's discarding me..."  
  
"Oh no, I know in my heart that he did not intend to do that, despite what he might be showing." Mathilde paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts. "I believe that you can change him, however, my lady."  
  
Hermione looked doubtful. "What makes you think that I can?"  
  
"Ah, it is but my maternal instinct. I've taken care of him since he was but a baby." Mathilde smiled. "Go and show him change. Do what you feel is right... it will come out for the best, my lady."  
  
Hermione thought about it. This was obviously very hard to do, but as her intellect and true attitude kicked in, she knew that she would not back down without a fight. Finally, she nodded to Mathilde. "I will do what I can, Mathilde."  
  
"I wish you luck, Lady Hermione. Do not fret though, I will be back soon, I promise." Mathilde said and Hermione hugged her once again.  
  
"Thank you." Hermione said.  
  
"No, my Lady. It is I who would be thanking you when you change his mind. After all, if you succeed, you will achieve what I have been trying to accomplish ever since I've aided in his growth."  
  
"What is that, Mathilde?"  
  
"To overcome the pain and learn to live again."  
  
And with that, Mathilde smiled at Hermione and the others and walked out of the kitchen using a back door. A soldier was waiting for her to accompany her to the town a few miles away.  
  
Hermione turned to the rest and smiled at each and every one in the room. "Well, since we're going to be working together, I would like to get to know you all."  
  
* * *  
  
Over the next three days, Hermione had taken charge over the whole castle. She oversaw the cooking, the cleaning and all-over change. She'd aided in the cleaning up of the servant's quarters and the soldier's lodging as well, muttering all the time on how they were able to live in such conditions before.  
  
The Great Hall was tidied up and cleaned from top to bottom. The stained glass windows sparkled after they were given a good wiping and cleaning. The tapestries changed and laundered. The garden and stables were also given the same treatment of onslaught.  
  
Hermione found out, that Mathilde had tried to do the same a long time before, but she was unable to continue. Lord Draco had hindered her.  
  
True to fashion, Hermione refused to join both Lord Draco and Sir Goyle during mealtimes. When Goyle asked her why during dinner the day Mathilde left, Hermione simply answered that it was not her place anymore to dine with them. After all, and this she directed to Draco who was looking at her with a blank expression, a woman had no place in the ranks of men.  
  
*  
  
Goyle turned to Draco and gave his friend a glare as they sat by the fire in the sitting area of Draco's tower. It was after dinner, after Hermione had told them that she would not be joining them during mealtimes.  
  
"What have you done, Draco?" Goyle asked.  
  
"I have done nothing, what are you talking about?"  
  
"Nothing?!" Goyle exclaimed. "You practically told her that she was no more than a servant!"  
  
"I needed someone to take charge over the castle. I never told her that she was now a servant!" Draco retorted.  
  
"You could have been more tactful, Draco..." Goyle hesitated. "I thought you wanted to make her stay."  
  
"Isn't that what I am doing?"  
  
"For God's sake, Draco! There are other ways of making a woman stay!"  
  
Draco thought for a moment. "I said that in madness."  
  
"Madness?" Goyle repeated. "You are now in denial that you said that you wanted to make her stay in here?"  
  
"Aye, I am." Draco replied. "It was merely the effect of the wine."  
  
"Wine?" Goyle repeated, incredulous. "I know you, Draco. You drink in moderation. You keep a clear head... there is no possible way that you would say something like that without you knowing it and you meaning it!"  
  
"Why are we even talking about this?" Draco snapped, rising up from his chair. "She means nothing to me..."  
  
"She means something to you, Draco. Only you deny it, only you think that she does not. But she does." Goyle said. "Like it or not, refuse it or no, she's changing you... she changed you!"  
  
"She has done no such thing." Draco said stubbornly.  
  
"Yes she has!" Goyle said getting up on his feet and looking at Draco levelly.  
  
"If you care about her so much, if you believe in her that much, then maybe you should go and woo her for all I care, seeing as she's more at ease with you!" Draco rejoined.  
  
"I could do that... but I won't." Goyle replied calmly. He was breathing heavily after his outburst. "And you know why?"  
  
Draco did not answer.  
  
"Because she's already taken with you."  
  
Draco looked at his friend in shock. After a few moments, he sat back down on his chair and simply stared into the fire.  
  
"I have no need for a woman. And I am damned sure that women have no need for me." Draco said.  
  
"And you will return to what you said before, that women are worthless?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Well, all this quarreling is exhausting. I will bid you goodnight, Draco." Goyle said, turning to leave. He opened the heavy wooden door to Draco's room. But before he stepped out, he left Draco with one final say. "I would only hope that you would change your mind, Draco... before she comes out suddenly and you are caught off guard. I have no doubt that she has some feeling for you Draco. I also have no doubt you have some for her as well; but I can only wish that you would stop denying what's right in front of you."  
  
And with that, Goyle left, shutting the door behind him and leaving Draco to his thoughts and another sleepless night by the fire.  
  
*  
  
It was on the fourth day of Mathilde's departure that Hermione finally proved exactly what she was worth.  
  
It started as a beautiful sunny day. Hermione had contented herself with tending the garden. She always loved to water the plants and flowers everyday and learn how to care for vegetables. She, of course, had some help from the appointed castle gardener, Warren, who was a bright young lad and who truly cared for growing plants and such.  
  
It was in the middle of this tending that Hermione heard a shout coming from the bailey. She stood up from her crouching position and strained to hear more. Then, all became in uproar from the inner bailey. Hermione, feeling that something had gone terribly wrong in the training, dropped the gardening tools and ran towards the sound. When she got there, all the men were crowding over something, or someone. Fearing an injury, Hermione raced towards the men and pushed her way in.  
  
Fortunately for her, once the men realized that the she was there, they made way and let her survey the damage. Hermione gasped when she saw him. She'd expected that someone had been injured, but she didn't expect Draco himself to be at the receiving end of this little mishap.  
  
He was sitting on the ground, his hand clutching at his left side, near the abdomen. He was presumably gritting his teeth, in order not to cry out in pain. Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized that blood was profusely flowing from beneath Draco's hand.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione demanded as she knelt down beside him and looked at him closely.  
  
"A mishap in training." He said through clenched teeth.  
  
"Give some room, give some room." Goyle's voice rose above the murmurs. Hermione looked up and smiled at him, grateful for his presence. He smiled back and continued to remove the men from crowding.  
  
"Don't you use armor?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I didn't think I would need it." came Draco's reply.  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Lie down." She told him.  
  
"I do not need help coming from a woman."  
  
"Well you're going to get it anyway. Lie down!" Hermione ordered. He glared at her for a second then unwillingly let her lay him back. He was still clutching his side.  
  
"Remove your hand." Hermione ordered. He was about to say a protest but she interrupted him. "If that wound gets infected and you get fever, do not blame me when you die! Remove your hand."  
  
"What would a woman know about nursing a wound." He muttered.  
  
"More than you know. So are you going to remove your hand or do I have to pry it out?" She glared at him as he did as well. But then, he finally backed down and removed his hand from his side. Blood was still flowing, but Hermione presumed that it wasn't as much as a few minutes ago. Draco's gray tunic was soaked.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She would have to find out the extent of his wounds, but in much better conditions. "Sir Goyle?" She called out, looking up.  
  
"Aye, Lady Hermione?"  
  
"Can you carry him back inside?"  
  
But before Goyle could come up with an answer, Draco interrupted them. "I don't need anyone to carry me. I can walk fine by myself."  
  
"But, you're..." And Hermione was talking to thin air when Draco stood up with ease and began walking towards the castle. She let out a frustrated breath then stood up and followed him. Goyle followed as well.  
  
Draco still walked in the unhurried fashion he was used to walking; he wasn't even clutching his side anymore, much to Hermione's amazement. But the amazement quickly wore off as she hurried to match his pace.  
  
"And where are you going?" She asked him as he went through the open doors of the entrance hall.  
  
"To my room." Draco replied.  
  
"Oh no, you're not!" Hermione said as she stepped right in front of him and blocked his path. He stopped in annoyance and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You are going to go to one of the spare rooms and you are going to stay there until I get you cleaned up."  
  
"I-"  
  
"And don't tell me that just because I'm a woman, that means I don't have any part to play in here..." She fumed. "It is precisely because I am a woman that I play a huge part in making sure you're not going to get sick because of that wound."  
  
"This is just a scratch." Draco argued.  
  
"Oh no it's not! And don't even think you're getting away with that. I know a deep wound when I see one and you've lost a whole lot of blood." Hermione retorted. "And you're going to lie down in one of the spare bedroom's beds and you are going to let me take care of you... And not a word from you until I get you fixed up. Understand?"  
  
She was intimidating to say the least, most of the servants watching the whole exchange were shell-shocked when they saw the wrath Hermione was emitting towards Draco. Even Goyle winced at the tone she was currently using.  
  
But Draco simply raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Come on and get yourself to that room..." Hermione ordered. "Or do you need Sir Goyle to carry you, my Lord?"  
  
When he started to protest yet again, she cut him off. "Don't push me, my Lord. I'll drag you to that room myself if you continue to be this stubborn."  
  
When he still refused to move, despite her attempts of stepping aside and letting him pass, she almost turned and gave up. Almost. She tried yet again.  
  
"Draco..." She said in a small whisper so that only he would hear. "Please... please... just go to that room."  
  
He looked at her then. Her eyes were pleading and she was breathing hard from the outburst. And to everyone's surprise, he walked towards the circular stairs.  
  
Hermione let out a sigh of relief. "Rose!" She called out after she ordered Goyle to follow Draco up the stairs.  
  
"Aye, my Lady?" Rose answered back.  
  
Hermione came near Rose and breathed out the instructions. "Go and get clean cloths and bring them up to the spare bedroom. Also, get clean water, boil some if you have to... I do not want any chance of infection in the wound."  
  
"Aye, Lady Hermione." Rose said, turning to leave.  
  
"Oh and Rose?"  
  
"Aye?"  
  
"Go and get a needle and a thread, put it in a pot of clean water and boil them... Leave them there, until my say."  
  
"Yes, Lady Hermione." And she quickly set out to get what Hermione asked her to prepare.  
  
Hermione's mind raced as she hurriedly walked up the stairs towards the room Draco was now in. She was wracking her brain for the things she'd learned during her Health classes in high school. She knew that every thing had to be clean and sterilized. Especially since the wound was so near (and probably in) Draco's internal organs. She had to make do with the conditions presented, but figured that boiling was as good a sterilization as any.  
  
As she entered the room, Hermione saw that Draco had laid down on the bed, his hand was back at his side. She knew he was trying very hard not to show any signs of pain or suffering.  
  
"Incredible." She muttered as she went over to his left side. It only took one look and he obediently removed his hand for her to look at the wound.  
  
"What is, Lady Hermione?" Goyle said, he was at the foot of the bed, watching the two if them.  
  
"That he can go through all this pain and still not acknowledge it." She replied.  
  
"It's just a scratch." He spoke up, his voice tired.  
  
"Whatever you say, my Lord." Hermione said. "Now, are you going to cooperate or do we have to go through that whole scene again?"  
  
"Do what you must..." He said. And Hermione smiled at him.  
  
"Thank you." She straightened up and rolled up the sleeves to her navy blue day gown.  
  
It was time to show them all, especially Draco, what a woman could do. 


	8. Changing of the Tides

Author's Note: Thank you all for the reviews! Now, I hope you won't kill me for having that cliffhanger at the end of Chapter 7... Sorry, but the chapter was getting too long and I was wondering how would I put all the next instances I the other chapters! Anyways, please read and review! And also, sorry for the very late update, my family and I went on this little trip. Thanks!  
  
Chapter 8: Changing of the Tides  
  
As Hermione was rolling up her sleeves, she asked Sir Goyle if she could have clean water and a basin. He had brought it a few moments later. And Hermione washed her hands.  
  
Then, taking a deep breath, she went over to Draco's side and gently unbuttoned his tunic. He did not even growl a protest. Hermione thought that it was the effect of the pain that caused him to do this. After his shirt was unbuttoned, she carefully removed the piece of clothing from his body, exposing his upper body to her.  
  
Hermione winced at the laceration on his left side, starting from the lower part of his ribcage and going down to his abdomen. She was glad that although the cut was deep, it didn't touch any of his internal organs. She had a pretty good background on human anatomy; something she didn't learn from Health classes, but rather from her brother who was a doctor; and she knew for a fact that the laceration was far enough from any internal organs.  
  
She looked back at him. He was watching her with a steady gaze, seeing as to what she would do.  
  
"The cut is deep, my Lord." She paused. "Fortunately, it didn't touch your internal organs. It is the infection I am more concerned about, my Lord. I will have to clean the wound and I would have to sew it."  
  
"Internal what?" Goyle repeated, furrowing his brow.  
  
"Internal organs, Sir Goyle. I would have to explain that later." Hermione said. "Are there going to be any protests, my Lord?" She asked, turning back to Draco.  
  
He shook his head slightly and she smiled at him. "Glad that you're finally cooperating, my Lord." She said kindly.  
  
"How can I not? After all, you have proven to me that you are a veritable opponent." He replied.  
  
"And pay attention my Lord. I have read in many books how often people in this day and age die because of improper and unclean conditions when it comes to treating wounds." Hermione then realized that Goyle was there and he was probably having a hard time digesting all of this. She turned to him and smiled. "I will explain that to you later, Sir Goyle."  
  
Goyle simply nodded.  
  
"Lady Hermione? The cloths and the water are ready." Came Rose's voice from beyond the doorway.  
  
"Come in, Rose." Hermione called. As Rose came in, Hermione asked Goyle to move the little table over to the left side of the bed, where she would be working on cleaning Draco's wound.  
  
When everything was settled, Hermione set to work. As she dropped one cloth in the basin of clean water, she asked Rose to fetch the pot where the needle and the thread were being boiled. Rose quickly went off to get the pot.  
  
After squeezing out the excess water, she cleaned off the wound as gentle and as careful as she could. Draco could feel the soft cloth on his bare skin, he would feel the brush of her hand once in a while; but oddly enough, he could not feel any pain.  
  
During battles, he simply had the wounds sealed using a burned knife. What he recalled of those rare moments was that it hurt like holy hell. And as usual, he refused to acknowledge it.  
  
But now, it seemed that all he could feel was the most caring of touches, being done by a woman who'd overstepped her bounds. Maybe he was wrong in saying that women were worthless...  
  
"Lady Hermione?" Rose called out tentatively and the sound broke Draco's train of thought.  
  
Hermione looked up from her work and nodded to Rose, telling her to set the pot on the table. Getting the needle and thread was going to be tricky, considering that she had to keep it at least cleaner that anything else, but there was no other choice other than to get it out using her hands.  
  
For the tenth time that day, she wished that she could've brought a first aid kit to the past. A load of Hydrogen Peroxide would be good right now.  
  
After she cleaned up most of the dried blood and the wound itself, Hermione dropped the cloths on the basin and washed her hands again. Taking a deep breath, she took the needle and thread (happy that Rose had enough sense to thread the needle before placing it in the water) from the pot. The water was hot still, but she didn't mind.  
  
She knelt down on the rug that was beside the bed and said a silent prayer that she wouldn't make a huge mess on Draco's pale skin. She learned enough from the fashion world on how to sew in an emergency. But sew on flesh?  
  
It just might prove to be harder than she thought. After a quick peek at Draco, who was still watching her closely, she started at the one end of the wound.  
  
As Hermione continued to sew on the wound, Draco watched her. He felt the prick of the needle on his side, but he ignored the pain. Hermione was making her little stitches, and openly admiring Draco's tolerance for pain and needles.  
  
Soon, she was finished and asking him to sit up. When he did, she wrapped the wound in a lightweight and clean cloth.  
  
"All done, my Lord." She said, smiling at him. "You can get up now." She added, stepping back.  
  
And he did. His chest was still bare and it was then that Hermione noticed the wide expanse of him. And she finally came to notice the long scar from the left side of his neck, down until it stopped just right above his heart. She hastily looked away when she realized that she was staring.  
  
"Rose?" Hermione called out.  
  
"Aye, my lady?"  
  
"A tunic for Lord Draco, if you please." Hermione said. Rose hurried to fetch him one as Goyle left the room carrying the basin of water and soiled cloths in it. And then they were alone.  
  
If having to bicker and taunt each other was difficult, then standing in front of each other in a secluded room was much harder. Both were too caught up with their own thoughts that they had nothing else to do but stare at each other.  
  
To break the silence, Hermione reached up and placed the back of her hand on his forehead. "No fever, my Lord." She said after careful consideration. She then slowly drew her hand back. But he caught her hand as it was making its way to her side.  
  
Hermione gave a small gasp, for her had surprised her. His hand was rough and calloused. Hers was small and soft. She stared at their joined hands. His skin was incredibly pale as hers was a creamy white. She liked the sight and she definitely enjoyed the feeling. She looked up at him and smiled.  
  
And for what seemed the tenth time that day, Draco's breath caught.  
  
But the moment was soon gone as they both heard footsteps echoing throughout the corridor. He instantly dropped her hand as she turned away from him, and busied herself with tidying up the room. Rose walked into the room a few moments later.  
  
"My lord..." She said tentatively. Draco nodded and took the tunic from her and sent her on her way.  
  
"Do I have your permission to go now?" Draco said to Hermione as he put the tunic on.  
  
She looked at him and tilted her head to the side, debating with herself. "Well, you have a high threshold for pain and you're seemingly fine, so... I guess you may."  
  
He nodded and started to go out from the room. But then, Hermione called him back.  
  
"Oh and Draco?" She called and he turned back to look at her. "No training first..." He nodded then resumed walking out. "Oh and Draco?" Hermione called out once again. He turned and looked at her, an annoyed expression on his face. "Aren't you forgetting something?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"You know, when someone helps another person, it would be nice and polite to thank the person who gave aid." She replied.  
  
Draco took a deep breath, as if saying that couple of words was so taxing to the body. "Thank you."  
  
Hermione smiled at him. "You're welcome, my Lord."  
  
He nodded and walked out, leaving Hermione still smiling about the whole encounter.  
  
* * *  
  
"And now he walks... and he did a bit of training as well, despite what Lady Hermione bade him not to do." Goyle said pleasantly. He and Draco were sitting at the dinner table, waiting for Hermione to arrive.  
  
Despite what she'd announced a few days ago, she'd been personally invited to eat with them for the rest of the time she would be staying there. It had been Draco, after thinking about it for quite a long time, who had come up to Hermione, who, after the ordeal, went back to her gardening, and asked her to join dinner... and breakfast and lunch as well.  
  
Hermione had accepted and Draco was incredibly relieved. She'd finally shown him her (and all of women's as well) importance. But he did not openly say or apologize that he learned that women were not worthless, he still was too stubborn and too proud. Nevertheless, Hermione felt it. And she did not press him either.  
  
But, as all women would do at that moment, she reveled in the fact that she'd changed him somehow.  
  
And now, Lord Draco and Sir Goyle were waiting for her to arrive for dinner. And Draco ignored Goyle's comment, but as ever the relentless (when it came to teasing Draco, of course) man that he was, Goyle continued to talk cajolingly to his friend.  
  
"How are you feeling, my Lord?" Goyle asked.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"Ah, no feeling out of the ordinary for you then? Very good." Goyle had to keep a straight face for the next part. "How is your side?"  
  
"Fine." Draco said in a flat tone.  
  
"Then she must be a good healer."  
  
"Aye, she is..."  
  
"Never saw anyone work like that, even Mathilde would be proud."  
  
"I guess."  
  
"And," Goyle added. "Not only does she cure cuts and wounds so efficiently, she also manages to do a bit of patching up matters of the heart."  
  
Draco sharply turned his head to where Goyle sat and gave him a venomous glare. But Goyle was not at all fazed. "What are you saying?"  
  
"Well, after this morning's incident, you've seem to have taken a liking to the gardens."  
  
"I was inviting her to dinner." Draco retorted.  
  
"Oh, inviting is one thing, I know that." Goyle replied in a light tone. "But watching her from a distance as she tends your garden is quite another."  
  
Draco's jaw almost dropped in shock, but he was never a man to show emotion. "And you know of this, how?"  
  
"My lord, you wound me." Goyle replied mockingly. "Many men pride themselves on being observant, but it did not take much observance when I stumbled upon you in the inner bailey looking at her."  
  
Draco was silent. He had not expected to be seen watching Hermione as she continued with her gardening. But she couldn't leave his mind in peace, especially after what she did for him.  
  
Goyle smiled knowingly. "Accept it, my lord. She fascinates you. She fascinates you a great deal. It is good, my lord. She is good for you... And we will talk or argue about how it will all turn out, but that will be later, for the woman of the hour is making her entrance."  
  
And Goyle stood up as Hermione walked towards them. "Lady Hermione, how nice it is for you to join us." She was wearing a simple white gown with bell sleeves. It was one of the dresses that she and Rose made with the cloth Mathilde had provided them. Draco stood up as quickly as Goyle did and went to her chair and pulled it out for her as Hermione neared them. He could do anything more other than stare at her.  
  
"My Lady." Draco said and she smiled up at him.  
  
"My Lord, Sir Goyle." She acknowledged and sat down. Draco went over to his chair and sat down. After a few moments, a servant brought in the food and they began to eat.  
  
"Now, my lady." Goyle said as they continued to eat. "I think now is the time for you to explain the..." Goyle trailed off as he tried to remember the words.  
  
"Internal organs?" Hermione supplied.  
  
"Ah yes, that." Goyle said and looked at her expectantly.  
  
"Lord Draco had not divulged anything as of yet? Any information at all?" Hermione asked, glancing at Draco who was quietly eating.  
  
"No." Goyle replied. "Believe me, I asked him many times but he has kept your confidences."  
  
"Would you two please stop talking as if I am not here?" Draco spoke up.  
  
"I am sorry, my lord." Hermione said, she turned to Draco who looked at her as well. "Thank you, my lord. I know I should have known that you had not said anything when poor Sir Goyle was wondering what in the world I was saying this morning, but I was too concerned with your welfare."  
  
"It's nothing. You're welcome." Draco replied. Hermione smiled at him.  
  
"Now, Sir Goyle, what was your question again?" Hermione asked.  
  
And as Goyle repeated his query and as Hermione answered him in all truthfulness, Draco contented himself with watching the exchange... and relishing the smiles Hermione gave him every so often. 


	9. The Leaving

Author's Note: Wow! Thanks, thanks, thanks for all of your reviews! You all give me one hell of a reason to smile a lot! Thank you once again! So sorry for the late update, but something came up in here and I couldn't get myself to write. But, never fear I am up and writing for all of you lovely people once again. Anyway, please read and review! On with the show!  
  
Chapter 9: The Leaving  
  
In a few days, Mathilde came back, and no one was the happier than Hermione. When she came back, Hermione was the one to greet her with a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.  
  
"Mathilde!" Hermione exclaimed, hugging the woman who laughed at Hermione's excitement. "I'm so glad that you're back!"  
  
"Yes, child..." Mathilde replied as the two pulled away from the warm embrace and Hermione quickly helped Mathilde with her bags.  
  
"How is the world outside these walls?" Hermione asked as they made their way to the kitchen.  
  
"All is well, my child."  
  
"How is the baby? And the mother?"  
  
"Very well, in fact," Mathilde related, setting down her things on the floor of the kitchen and sitting on a chair. Hermione did the same and leaned forward in anticipation. "I related the story of you being here in the Lord's castle... as well as the plan. Did it go well?"  
  
Hermione laughed and nodded her head. "Yes it did. I managed to at least change Lord Draco's assumptions about women."  
  
Mathilde chuckled. "Well, the new mother, Amelia is her name, was very much intrigued that you were in fact planning to change Lord Draco's mind about women."  
  
Hermione's face fell. "You mean that his regard is known well over the land?"  
  
Mathilde nodded. "They have some idea, but some brush it off. Lord Draco is fair and just... they dismiss the fact that he said that."  
  
"Oh." Hermione replied. "Well, what did Amelia say?"  
  
"Well, she told me to send word if you have in fact changed him..." Mathilde could not suppress her smile any longer. "And, she has named her new baby girl after you."  
  
Hermione's jaw dropped and stared disbelievingly at Mathilde. She shook her head, much to the amusement of the other woman.  
  
"But... she barely knows me." Hermione said, but she trailed off.  
  
"Yes, but I forgot to mention the fact that she was once employed here. But when she got married, she left. Lord Draco gave her and her new husband a piece of land." Mathilde explained and Hermione understood. "She knows first-hand about Lord Draco's now-gone disdain for women. And when I related that you had come and was planning to change his mind, she felt that she should name her first child after you."  
  
Hermione was still in shock. She felt the tears brimming her eyes. No one, not even her closest friends, would do that for her... and here was someone who barely knew her, who was naming her child after her. "I want to come and see her." Hermione said.  
  
"Oh my dear child," Mathilde said kindly. "The season is getting colder and it is becoming harsh. I doubt that Lord Draco would allow you to take that journey."  
  
"But..."  
  
"Maybe in the spring..." Mathilde suggested. "We can go and visit her."  
  
Hermione smiled and did an unladylike bout of letting out a short squeal. Then promptly clapped a hand over her mouth, much to the delight of Mathilde. "Thank you, Mathilde!" Hermione exclaimed, reaching out and giving the woman a hug.  
  
"Now, now child... no need to get so giddy." Mathilde chided kindly as Hermione released her. "Now, I suggest you go and resume your tending in the garden. I will take charge over here once again"  
  
"I will." Hermione replied, getting up and walking briskly towards the entrance of the kitchen. "Mathilde?" She called back as she was about to leave.  
  
"Aye, Lady Hermione?"  
  
"Thank you." Hermione said, smiling happily.  
  
Mathilde chuckled and waved her away. When Hermione was out of sight, Mathilde got up and brought her things to the room, preparing to go back to her duties. "My word," Mathilde said to herself. "I hope that Lord Draco will come to his senses and woo Lady Hermione before someone gets her first."  
  
* * *  
  
"And I still find you in the gardens." Draco said as he came to stop just a few feet from Hermione, who was tilling the soil of the garden later that same day.  
  
Hermione looked up and smiled at Draco. He gave her a nod, but nothing more. Hermione wished he could smile easily. "Yes my Lord. Does it bother you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Hermione was taken aback by his answer. She gulped and asked him. "Why, my lord?"  
  
"Because my gardener is now off the kitchens and not doing any work at all." Draco replied and shook his head.  
  
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled at the response. "I am sorry if I put your gardener out of work, my lord." She said as she briefly inspected a flower nearby.  
  
"Don't be... I believe that you like the garden... and the garden likes being tended by you as well."  
  
"How so, my lord?" Hermione asked curiously.  
  
"Why, these plants of course." Draco said, gesturing to the rest of the garden. "It's beginning to grow chilly and yet they grow still."  
  
Hermione smiled and colored in pleasure. He, unbeknownst or not, was giving her a compliment. Hermione intended to savor it. "Thank you, my lord." She replied, as she brushed the dirt off her hands and off her brown dress. She started to stand when Draco immediately went over to her side and held out a hand to her. She took it and he pulled her up with ease.  
  
"Thank you again, my lord." Hermione said, then smiled as she was straightened up and continued to brush off the dirt from her dress. "Your chivalry is showing."  
  
"I have been talking with Sir Goyle." Draco explained. And Hermione laughed.  
  
Draco tried to muster up even a smile... but old memories came back to him and he couldn't.  
  
Hermione stopped laughing and turned her attention back to Draco who was simply watching her. How she wished he could smile... She'd been briefed by Rose on one occasion or another that he rarely smiled at anyone. Rose said something about his past, but only Mathilde and Sir Goyle knew about it. All Hermione knew was that something bad had happened when he was just a child. And she was too shy to come out and ask Mathilde, Sir Goyle or even Lord Draco himself about that.  
  
"I have something to show you, my lord." Hermione said suddenly and grabbed his hand and quickly led him towards the stables to the side of the garden. Draco, momentarily immobilized by her sudden action, could do nothing but let her lead him to wherever she was leading him.  
  
"Look, my lord!" Hermione exclaimed as she pointed towards a white mare. Draco tore his eyes away from her and looked towards where she was pointing. "I believe she's pregnant." Hermione said excitedly.  
  
"Aye, she is... almost 6 months now." Draco replied, leaning on a nearby post.  
  
"Oh..." Hermione said, gazing at the beautiful horse. "May I stroke her?"  
  
"Aye... I think she likes you."  
  
Hermione smiled as she stepped up and began stroking the horse's neck and face while the mare looked on with interest. "What's her name, my lord?"  
  
"Starshine."  
  
"That's a beautiful name, my lord."  
  
"She was my mother's horse." Draco said.  
  
Hermione grew still. Then hastily went back to her stroking. From what she'd gathered, Narcissa Malfoy was the only woman Draco truly loved... until she died five years ago. Then Draco grew even more bitter. "Oh."  
  
"Do you like horses?" Draco asked, changing the subject.  
  
"Yes." Hermione replied. "I used to ride them when I was little, in my father's jockey club."  
  
"Jockey what?"  
  
"Jockey club, where horses are ridden." Hermione explained. Then felt a pang of sadness as she remembered her parents. But the feeling was soon gone when Draco spoke up again.  
  
"You don't use horses often then?"  
  
"No. We use these big steel boxes with wheels called cars." Hermione said, looking at him and tilting her head to one side as he tried digest all the information. Hermione laughed at his expression. "I'm sorry, but I can't explain to you how the world works in the 21st century. You just had to be there."  
  
"I'd rather not." Draco said decidedly.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I like the way the world works right now."  
  
Hermione laughed once again and nodded her head. "I guess so... So, could you introduce me to the other animals as well?"  
  
He nodded his head and started off to the horse beside Starshine. "This is Goyle's stallion. I believe he is also the father of Starshine's foal."  
  
Hermione smiled at the huge brown horse who looked very much like its rider. "And his name is?"  
  
"You'd better ask Goyle... I refuse to say it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Such words cannot be heard from my mouth... even if we are alone in here." Draco said.  
  
Hermione looked at him strangely, then started to laugh. Draco looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Are you mocking me?" He asked almost mockingly as well.  
  
"Hmm... let me see... yes!" Hermione answered, then continued to laugh. Draco shook his head.  
  
"Disrespectful wench..." He muttered, causing Hermione to laugh harder. "Come now, otherwise you'll disturb all the other horses."  
  
Hermione shook off the laughter and then followed Draco around, knowing all the other horse's names when they finally reached the end of the stable... and she came face to face with a huge black stallion, who looked at her with grimness.  
  
She gasped.  
  
"This is my horse." Draco said.  
  
"Oh... what's his name?" Hermione asked in slightly terrified voice.  
  
"Dusk."  
  
Hermione did not say anything. She was still kind of mortified at the imposing stature of Draco's horse.  
  
"You're not afraid of him, are you?" Draco asked, looking at her.  
  
"Umm... well, he does, kind of."  
  
"Good." Draco replied. When she looked at him in confusion, he added, "I trained him to never show any acceptance to any other person other than me."  
  
"So, that means that he never gets along with anybody, except you?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Yes. Until I myself tell him to."  
  
"Oh." Hermione thought for a moment. "Can he be friendly towards me, then?"  
  
"That depends, only under one condition." He proposed.  
  
Hermione was almost afraid to ask. She swallowed. "Which is?"  
  
"Call me by my name." Draco said. "No 'my lord' when we're alone together."  
  
Hermione at first was confused. Then she smiled and nodded her head. "Okay. I'll promise to call you by your name whenever we're alone together."  
  
"Say it."  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Say my name."  
  
"Draco."  
  
And with that, he turned to Dusk and nodded. Instantly, the horse came over to Hermione, as timid as little kitten. Hermione smiled and let out a short laugh as she began to tentatively stroke Dusk's face.  
  
They continued to talk after that, never minding that the sun was setting and that a rider was approaching.  
  
* * *  
  
It was almost dinnertime when a message had arrived for Draco. After parting ways, as Hermione had to change for dinner, Draco was confronted with the personal messenger of Phillip Wharton just outside the door of the entrance hall.  
  
Phillip Wharton was a man whom Draco considered as an old friend and a mentor. He was the kind of friend that never failed to teach Draco important lessons about running the castle, surviving in the wild and so on. Having traveled for many years together, in the attempt to restore peace in the northern part of France, they knew each other well.  
  
"A good evening to you, Lord Draco." The messenger said respectfully as he bowed. "Lord Wharton wishes to give you this urgent message."  
  
Draco nodded as he took the bit of parchment. It read:  
  
'Draco,  
  
Opposing forces and some ruffians from England have been invading the south of Normandy. I fear that they will attack Touraine next. I am asking for your help to secure my piece of land. Bring as much men as you can, I fear a full-fledged war if we do not stop this intrusion at once.  
  
Leave as soon as possible... There is not much time.  
  
Phillip'  
  
Draco quickly noted that Phillip must be in true danger, as he had not taken much time or thought in the writing of the letter. After telling the messenger that they would be leaving at first light the next morning, the messenger nodded and went on his way.  
  
Draco took a deep breath. Then quickly went to the soldier's quarters and small training area and rounded up a hundred or so of his best men, telling them to pack their gear and horses, ready for the journey to Touraine. After this, he went to the dining room through the kitchen, wondering how would he explain the whole thing to Hermione.  
  
Dinner was less than uneventful. Draco had briefed Goyle on the plan before Hermione came down and Goyle understood at once, having been a friend of Phillip's as well.  
  
Hermione, for one reason in which she could not determine, felt the immense tension at the dinner table. And so, she kept quiet all through the meal.  
  
When dinner was through, Goyle excused himself and went to prepare for tomorrow. That left Draco and Hermione at the table, wondering what the other was planning to do. But this time, Draco took the initiative.  
  
"Hermione?" Draco called tentatively. Hermione was surprised, he didn't usually call her by her first name... except when he meant to say something important.  
  
"Yes, Draco?"  
  
"Would you care for a walk outside? I... I want to talk to you about something."  
  
Hermione nodded as she pushed away her chair and stood up. Draco offered his arm out to her and she took it. The walk towards the outside was silent; Hermione being confused and Draco being anxious.  
  
Once they were outside, Hermione felt the cool air, but paid the chill no mind. They were alone in the middle of the grassy lawn. The torches were all lit, giving everything a eerie feeling. Hermione shuddered slightly.  
  
"What did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione asked as they stopped walking and Draco faced her.  
  
"I am leaving tomorrow." Draco replied.  
  
"What?"  
  
"My ally, Lord Phillip Wharton of Touraine, had asked for my aid in a battle against some opposing forces that threaten his home and land. I will take with me my personal guard, along with a hundred of my men." He explained.  
  
Hermione fell silent and looked down at her fidgeting hands.  
  
"I am giving you full authority over the castle. You may spend you time with doing whatever you like, provided that you do not leave its gates." Draco warned. "You may go up to the tower if you wish to look out from time to time. Do you understand?"  
  
Hermione nodded as she still was too dumbfounded to speak.  
  
"Say something, Hermione." Draco said, looking at her intently.  
  
"I'm sorry, Draco. But this is all too sudden..." Hermione began. "Do you really have to go?"  
  
"Aye, I do. Lord Phillip has been an old friend and a mentor. I'm sure he would do the same thing if it were me in his place."  
  
"I see." Hermione replied. "When will you be coming back?"  
  
"In a month, I guess."  
  
Hermione nodded; then fell silent again. Too much was on her mind. From the information she's gathered during her classes in college, Touraine was a small feudal state below Normandy. Draco would have to ride long and hard to the journey there... and back as well.  
  
"You will be careful Draco, right?" Hermione asked, looking up and feeling her heart thump wildly at the fear for him getting hurt or worse.  
  
"I will." Draco promised.  
  
"Is there anything I can do other than pray for you and the others' well- being?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Just sleep well tonight and every night after. No need to worry about me." Draco assured. "We will be gone by first light tomorrow."  
  
"Please be careful, Draco." Hermione said. "You're the only one I have in here, if anything happens to-"  
  
"Sssh. I know. I'll be back, I promise you."  
  
After a few silent minutes, Draco announced that they had better get some sleep. And together, they went back to the castle, hoping that promises would be kept and everyone would return safe and sound. 


	10. Empty Workings and Uncertainties

Author's Note: Thank you for all your reviews! I absolutely love getting them and reading them! Thank you, thank you once again! Anyways, I am really sorry that the romance part will be for later and I know you all are getting quite impatient with me, (hell, I'm getting impatient with me! [kidding]) but I wanted the first touches and kisses to be super special! So, please keep reading and reviewing. The lovely and intimate scenes will be coming up soon, I promise!  
  
Chapter 10: Empty Workings and Uncertainties  
  
A week after Draco and Goyle had left for the battle; Hermione was feeling incredibly bored and restless. For the first few days, she had been busy, doing what she would be doing if they were here. But, on the seventh day, she just didn't feel like doing it all anymore.  
  
Mealtimes were spent in the kitchen, as she ate with the other servants and conversed with them. She loved each and everyone - their insights, their ideals, their dreams. Hermione loved spending time with them and working with them.  
  
But it just wasn't the same.  
  
First, she'd been separated from her family. God knows what they were doing right now. She guessed that her mother would be sick with worry and her father would be hollering at the police and detectives, telling them to keep at the search for his only daughter.  
  
And their efforts would be futile. Hermione thought as she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Most of the mornings were spent like this: with her feeling drained and sickly.  
  
And now, Draco and Goyle were off to a battle. How she missed them.  
  
After all, she smiled as she recalled the memories, Sir Goyle could make her laugh and smile with his endless talks about trivial matters. They, when they found the time, would talk about what the future was like and made endless comparisons and contrasts. As well as a few jokes here and there. Sir Goyle was funny and adorable. Hermione wondered why he never talked about his love life. Not that she'd be too shameless to ask.  
  
But Draco?  
  
He'd only warmed up to her, become gentlemanly and chivalrous; then he had to be called to a battle. Hermione sighed and pushed back the blankets and got out of bed. She went over to the desk she'd appointed as a vanity and picked up an ornate ivory comb and began brushing her hair.  
  
Draco had left the comb on her vanity table before he left that morning. Hermione had not even stirred when he came to her room and placed the comb on the desk. What she didn't know was that he looked at her for a few minutes, imprinting her face in his mind and vowing to himself that he would go to the war and come back, safe and sound, just for her.  
  
After brushing her hair, she simply stared at the gift he had given her. Hermione smiled wistfully. Where he got the comb and why he gave it to her, she did not know. She knew she would have to ask him that when he came back. Setting the comb down and putting on her day clothes, Hermione wondered what she would do today.  
  
Breakfast came and went, with Hermione not eating but only a few spoonfuls of porridge. After eating, she went outside to look at the garden. But, much to her disappointment, the cold was setting in and most of the plants were feeling the effects of the temperature change. Sighing, she went to the stables.  
  
Once there, the horses neighed and greeted her as she stepped in.  
  
"Hey guys." She said, giving them a small smile. She went over to Starshine and gently stroked her. The horse nudged her comfortingly. "I know, Starshine." Hermione replied. "I miss him."  
  
She spent about an hour there, just being with the animals. She found comfort in them... and amazingly, when she left the stables, she was more joyous than she'd ever been.  
  
This of course, being the creative woman that she is, presented the urge to make some changes in the castle. The Yuletide season was fast approaching and she wanted everything to be prepared, even though it was only the last days of October.  
  
When she asked Rose and Mathilde for any thing or any materials that she could use to make decorations, they looked at her strangely. Mathilde explained that while they did have decorations, it was too early to put them up. Hermione then explained that she did not plan to put the decors just yet, but she wanted to make them.  
  
Rose understood completely and this prompted her to show Hermione to one of the rooms that Draco used as a storage room. The room was located in the far corner of the castle and it was incredibly huge. Candles were lit, since the windows were boarded up. And dust was everywhere.  
  
Nevertheless, Hermione found it as a perfect opportunity to do something worthwhile. After telling Rose that she'd be fine in the room, Rose simply nodded and went on her way.  
  
Hermione rolled up her sleeves and began to look at the things there. Portraits were off to one wall, covered with a sheet and gathering dust as it is. Suits of armor were also seen, gathering dust as well. Huge wooden boxes were around, and that's exactly where Hermione intended on starting her little project.  
  
Never minding the little critters and such that were lurking around, she used one of the many candles Rose had lit and bought it over to one of the boxes.  
  
And so, she spent the whole day there, only coming out from the room when she needed to eat and when she needed to get a breath of fresh air. But, by the end of the day, she managed to get a few yards (or what she calculated them to be) of different textures of cloth, a few yards of ribbon, some knickknacks that she figured could be used as decors and such.  
  
She left the room, after extinguishing all the candles and went directly to take a bath. Once done, she slipped into white linen nightgown and brushed her hair as she sat on the vanity. The night breeze was cool and Hermione's skin broke out in gooseflesh.  
  
"I wonder how Draco and the others are standing this cold?" Hermione muttered in a soft voice. "I just hope they'll be safe."  
  
It was only then that Hermione wondered why Draco was so important to her.  
  
"Let's sort out the facts." Hermione continued, getting into the whole deal of talking to herself. She used to do this a lot back then, when she was all alone in her apartment in London. "I'll admit that I am attracted to him." Who wouldn't? She thought. "And he is gentlemanly and sweet, well kind of, when he's with me. But..." She trailed off.  
  
Why did she have to travel 600 hundred years into the past to find him?  
  
That was precisely the million-pound question that she refused to ask out loud.  
  
Sighing, she put down the comb and crawled into bed, sleep taking over her tired form.  
  
* * *  
  
The next few weeks for Hermione were spent either preparing the whole castle for Christmas and for the cold winter or writing.  
  
Yes, she'd taken up the passion for writing yet again. She was now intent on writing a continuation on her second book. Yes, the manuscript was saved on her computer back home, but the main plot was still in her head. She'd only begun to write the first few chapters before she was whisked away to this place and time.  
  
It's funny, Hermione thought as she paused in her writing during that sunny (yet still cold) Friday morning, all that time, I thought I was writing about this different character who wants more substance in her life... but now I realize that this book is me.  
  
She smiled, shaking her head. She reread the passage she'd just written:  
  
*Isn't it strange, I've asked myself for so many times, that I've never really thought about the meaning of my life? I've been there, I've certainly done that, but I could never find any satisfaction in my life. I know it is quite selfish of me to say this, but... how can you feel something about the things that you do when you've never learned HOW to recognize the feeling? For example, how would you know true love if you've never experienced it? Yes, a lot of my friends tell me that I'll feel it and know it when I encounter the man of my fondest dreams. But what exactly do you feel? Is it the feeling of your chest tightening when you see him, the pain you encounter when he's gone, or the sweaty palms and the constant biting of your lip when he looks at you? Maybe it's the exact way that he's supposed to hold you, touch you and kiss you. Maybe it's the exact way you're supposed to respond to his actions.  
  
Maybe that's the problem here, it's not that I don't know how to feel... but I don't know what to feel. But either way, I am now determined to know what it takes to make my life substantial and important.*  
  
Hermione smiled again. After countless drafts and trashed manuscripts, she'd finally found a good enough prologue to her story. Picking up the quill and dipping it in ink, she continued to write.  
  
Maybe I'll make my male lead just like Draco... She mused absentmindedly.  
  
There was only a few more days before he (and the others of course) came home, and Hermione was bubbling up with anticipation that she would see him again.  
  
* * *  
  
But as luck would have it. Exactly one month after they left, they didn't come home. On that day, Hermione was trying desperately not to think about them coming home and her seeing Draco again. But as nightfall came, no sounds of the barbican gate opening were heard and there were no thundering hooves on the soft earth.  
  
Hermione stayed up all night, but still they didn't come. She reasoned that maybe they were caught up in bad weather or that Lord Phillip had a feast.  
  
One week later, they were still nowhere to be found.  
  
Hermione began to grow worried. It was the 28th day of their departure and they still didn't come home. What was worse, snow had begun to fall two days ago. This made her jumpy, afraid and extremely worried about their state.  
  
Rose and Mathilde tried to comfort her, telling her that it was possible that the snow had hindered their arrival and Hermione did try her best to feel comforted and fine... but she couldn't. At least she couldn't when she was alone. Yes, there were times when she wanted to cry but she stopped herself each time.  
  
During the day, she would go around with her chores. The decorations were now being slowly put up in the great hall where she's laid out tapestries on the floor and insisted on the few men that had nothing to do to make her a small couch where she could sit and watch the fire in the hall.  
  
Sometimes during the day she would go up to Draco's tower and look out to the view the windows presented to her. But she still felt empty.  
  
It went on like this for a few more days. Soon, Draco and his men were missing for 2 weeks. During that time, Hermione felt incredibly drained and weak. She wasn't eating that much and she wasn't sleeping that well either.  
  
Both Rose and Mathilde tried to comfort her but they couldn't do anything except persuade her to eat and watch over her as she slept. Although Draco had been called to many battles before, he was not this late when he came home. They wondered what could be keeping him.  
  
What they heard of, about the battle though, was that Lords Phillip and Draco were victorious. They obtained this through the people that bordered the castle gates. They did not, however, learn any information about the whereabouts of Draco and his men.  
  
They expected the worst.  
  
On the last day of the second week, Hermione was forced to spend the day in bed, seeing as she could not stand or sit without feeling dizzy. Rose had been called to watch over her, but Hermione being the stubborn girl and she was definitely concerned that neither Rose nor Mathilde had been getting a good night's sleep at her expense, ordered them to sleep in their respective rooms that night.  
  
Though with much protest, Hermione remained firm in her decision and order. Mathilde and Rose had no choice but to leave her alone that night after bringing her supper.  
  
And so, Hermione was alone in her room and almost unable to get up from bed. She did as she did almost every night since Draco's departure and prayed. She wished and prayed and hoped that they would all come back safe and sound.  
  
With that short prayer, she rolled onto her side and drifted off to sleep. 


	11. Coming Home

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! Although I am really sorry that I had to end chapter 10 there, all without any action at all! Therefore, the next few chapters will be so full of action (both in the romantic sense and otherwise) that I really hope that you'll forgive me for chapter 10. Anyway, I think my friend (AK Waters) and I are going to put out a story soon, please watch out for it as well! Thank you again and now, on with the story!  
  
Chapter 11: Coming Home  
  
Hermione woke up with a start. It was still that same night and it was very late at that. Something was not right, she thought to herself. She quickly sat up in bed and listened closely.  
  
Nothing.  
  
But something woke her up. She knew that for a fact. Hermione threw off the blankets and got out of bed. She didn't mind the initial wooziness that she felt; instead, she went out of her room and went downstairs. It was maybe out of habit that when she woke up in the dead of night that she would make herself a soothing cup of tea. She didn't mind the coldness of the floor beneath her bare feet or the chill of the night air as she didn't put on anything over her nightgown.  
  
Once she reached the landing of the first floor, she went directly to the kitchen. The torches were never put out, as they still burned gaily, making shadows with the other objects and countless Christmas decors along the whole first floor of the castle. But she didn't mind that either.  
  
The kitchen was darker than the other rooms, and so Hermione had to light a candle she got from one of the baskets to keep from stumbling in the dark. Once the candle was lit, she quietly took out a kettle and placed water in it, intending to make herself a cup of tea. Having been quite comfortable working in the kitchens, she knew the place of everything she needed. Soon, the water was boiling and she soon settled into a seat in one of the benches. While waiting, she ran her hands through her hair, still thinking what could have woken her up at such a time.  
  
Meanwhile, a few yards outside the barbican gate, a hundred or so men, all clad in chain mail and heavy woolen cloaks were making their way home. Soon, the guards of the castle raised the iron portcullis and the men entered. For most of them, they made a turn to their sleeping quarters and their horse stables, thankful that they were able to get back to the castle without too many injuries.  
  
For two men, however, they simply stopped in the middle of the inner bailey and got off their horses. Two other men came up and led the horses to the stables. Together, they made their way towards the kitchen entrance, as they knew that the main entrance would be barred.  
  
Sir Goyle was incredibly tired. After riding for a few or so days nonstop complete with the victorious battle in Touraine, he was looking forward to getting a good night's sleep. Lord Draco looked at his friend and clapped him on the back, quietly telling him that he had better go directly to his room, lest he might fall on the hard ground. Goyle nodded his head, no doubt half asleep.  
  
Draco shook his head as he pushed open the door to the kitchen... and noticed dim light seeping into the shadows.  
  
Hermione was sipping her hot tea, her thoughts idling to some matter which she was only thinking about subconsciously. Then, she heard a strange noise. It sounded like something heavy being eased open then quietly slammed shut. She froze. What was she going to do now? What if those were robbers? Her mind raced and her breathing quickened as she heard two pairs of heavy footsteps. Hermione started to stand when she whipped her head towards the sound... and her mouth went agape.  
  
Draco and Goyle were walking from the kitchen entrance of the bailey. Goyle had his head down, his eyes almost closed. Draco was walking beside him; his hair was now tied into a low ponytail. Both had woolen cloaks with a sprinkling and a dash of snowflakes which were slowly melting. Draco turned to the source of the light and his eyes came in contact with Hermione's.  
  
After a month and a half, the woman he'd been dying to see was now right in front of him.  
  
Goyle stirred and looked sleepily at Hermione, who was now staring at him in awe and shock. "Oh, a good night to you, Lady Hermione." Before Hermione could even muster up a greeting, Goyle continued to walk towards the stairway beyond the dining hall. She followed him with her eyes, her mouth still gaping open. Realizing that must have looked like a fish out of water, she quickly closed her mouth and slowly turned back her head towards Draco.  
  
Draco's breath caught, as it usually did when she looked at him. The dim light from the solitary candle made her eyes wider, her skin a deeper in color and her hair more silky. Ever since leaving, all he wanted to do was look at her and possibly, if she'd ever let him, touch her.  
  
Hermione was staring at him. She took in his handsome face, a few wisps of blond hair were resting on his forehead and somewhat shielding his gray eyes. The light too, played shadows on his façade, making his features softer yet the hardness could not be masked. When she'd finally realized that the man she'd been waiting for forever to come was right there, she immediately came to her senses.  
  
"Draco!" She gasped, as a full smile came upon her face and she half- ran to where he was standing. Then, without warning, she came up to him and threw her arms around his neck and held on like she was drowning. Tears began to escape from out of the corners of her eyes and she shuddered as a sob escaped her lips. "I'm so glad you're home!" She said pressing her cheek to his.  
  
And he didn't know what to make of it. His hands limp at his sides and he was at a loss for words. He could feel the hot tears slipping from her to him, but he didn't mind. Her soft cheek pressed to his made him tremble slightly and for the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do. But she continued her tirade of relief and worry.  
  
"I was so, so, scared when you didn't come home two weeks ago... I feared that something bad had happened during the battle or during the ride home..." Hermione said, crying freely now. All the emotions she'd held bottled up inside were released from her body as she cried. Her whole body trembled as she still held onto him.  
  
Draco, still feeling helpless, did the only thing he could do at that time and tentatively placed one hand on her back. Instantly, her trembling stopped. He felt it even when she couldn't. Taking a deep breath, he ran his hand up and down the length of her back, slowly as to give her the comfort he could not give through words.  
  
"Don't ever do that to me again, please, Draco..." Hermione continued, still sobbing. "Don't ever let me worry about you that much. A few more days of you not being here might drive me crazy, or even Rose and Mathilde crazy. Don't ever do that to me again..."  
  
"I won't..." Draco said, finding his voice. "I'll never do that again." He bent down further, almost burying himself in her hair as he held her closer than before. His other hand went to her hair and his fingers slipped through it.  
  
"Promise me, you'll never do that to me again..." Hermione pleaded.  
  
"I promise... please stop crying, Hermione." Draco replied.  
  
And after a few more moments of simply holding each other and Draco gently stroking her with all the tenderness he possessed, Hermione stopped crying. Once Draco knew that she stopped, he gently released her as she did him. They drew back and looked at each other. Then Hermione gasped suddenly, causing Draco to raise his eyebrows slightly on what could possibly be the problem now.  
  
"Draco, you didn't tell me." Hermione scolded, lifting her hand to touch his face. There were a few minor and shallow cuts here and there, as well as a few bruises. But he caught her hand.  
  
"I'm fine." He said.  
  
"But-"  
  
"I'm fine." Draco repeated, lowering her hand and dropping it, but not before squeezing it gently. Then, Hermione began to wipe the remnants of her tears. "You must be tired, you'd better get some sleep." Draco said. "Come, I'll accompany you to your room."  
  
Hermione tried to protest that he was more tired than she was but he was already guiding her across the dining hall. "Draco..." She called meekly.  
  
Draco looked at her and saw that she was having a hard time walking and despite his hand on her back and part of her waist, she was swaying like she had too much wine. Acting quickly, he stopped and carried her.  
  
He shook his head. "What is it about you and fainting spells, Hermione?" He asked, starting up the stairs.  
  
Hermione had rested her head against his strong chest, one hand was placed just above his heart. "I'm sorry..."  
  
"Have you not been eating well?"  
  
"No... I was busy worrying about you that I lose my appetite every mealtime."  
  
"And what about walking these halls in the middle of the night, barefoot and clad only in a nightgown?" Draco asked.  
  
"I..." Her speech drifted off into a slur and so Draco decided not to ask anymore. Soon, he reached the landing and carried her to her room. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he laid her down on the soft bed and drew warm and heavy blankets over her small form.  
  
When he was through, he straightened up and began walking towards the doorway. Once he was there and was about to close the door, he stole one more glance at her... and a hint of a smile crossed his features briefly before it was gone.  
  
* * *  
  
Over the next week, everything went back to normal.  
  
Hermione was up and eating well, continuing on with the festive mood of the nearing Christmas day. She'd even continued to write her story. And whenever Sir Goyle had the time, they would get into fights in the snow.  
  
Draco had watched those snow fights from a distance in wonder as to how Hermione could get well so soon. He'd talk to her when she was alone. He would be asking her what she was doing while he was gone and she'd been more than happy to show him all the things she'd been up to (save for the story she was writing). Draco accepted the changes in his castle; after all, all he wanted right now was her happiness.  
  
But what about actually loving her?  
  
He refused to even think about it. Even though Goyle would keep dropping hints that all Hermione ever talked about was Draco... and she did get sick because Draco wasn't around at that time.  
  
And so, he contented himself to simply watching her smile and laugh and play... even though he so desperately wanted to smile and laugh along with her.  
  
But, as all tales must proceed, Fate once again intervened.  
  
A week before Christmas day, the sound of trumpets and horns were heard from beyond the walls of the castle. Draco was in the inner bailey, training his men, but then he suddenly stopped and listened.  
  
The sounds certainly didn't sound like that of battle or any warning, but they were triumphant and joyous. Draco quickly went up the snow-covered walkway to look at the scene. A score or so of men on horseback, led by a dark-haired man in chain mail, were making their way across his outer bailey. Behind the men were half a dozen horse-driven carriages.  
  
He shook his head, full knowing what the scarlet and gold colors of the flag symbolized. The family de Gervais. On his mother's side. And what were they doing wreaking havoc on his countryside? He looked closely at the emblem of the flag and found that to be of his cousin, Lord Emil de Gervais of Aquitaine. Draco started down the stairs of the walkway to meet the troop and whoever had joined Emil in the inner bailey after ordering a guard to raise the iron portcullis.  
  
Damn. He thought. Emil was of good character and was a just lord. He and Draco used to ride together during some of the battles that waged before. They'd seen many places together and Emil was a loyal friend. But there was one other thing that made Draco more apprehensive to the fact that Emil's troop was slowly nearing his castle gates. Emil could woo any maiden with a single glance. He had the raven hair, the piercing green eyes and the charm that could make any woman melt right on the spot.  
  
Draco usually didn't mind that part of Emil, having been used to his cousin's conquests and such. But trust him with Hermione? Not a chance in holy hell. Draco sighed as he crossed his arms over his chest and watched as the troop entered his gates and stopped a few yards before him.  
  
"Malfoy." Emil greeted curtly as he got down from his horse in one graceful swoop.  
  
"De Gervais." Draco said just as curtly and Emil walked right up to his cousin. What looked like to be a full-out brawl in the middle of the inner bailey to some onlookers was soon proved wrong when Emil smiled his famous sunny smile.  
  
"Well met, Draco." Emil said, chuckling and giving his cousin a clap on the back. He continued to smile while Draco simply nodded his head.  
  
"And what brings you to my part of France?" Draco asked after Emil ordered his men to disembark and go to the soldier's quarters. The carriages, as Draco hoped would be false, contained his relatives and some women from his castle.  
  
"Ah, cousin..." Emil said, turning to walk along the bailey. "Mother has been pestering me to liven up your Christmas season. And so, I am here and along with our relatives, we are going to hold one of the grandest balls your Great Hall has ever seen."  
  
"Lord Emil de Gervais, a pleasure once again to see you, friend." Called a voice. The two cousins turned and saw Goyle smiling at both of them.  
  
"Sir Gregory Goyle, of course. Where would Lord Draco be without his friend to watch over him? Tell me, has he been misbehaving?" Emil said cheerily as the two shook hands in greeting.  
  
"No. Of course not." Goyle replied, looking at Draco in a knowing way. Draco rolled his eyes.  
  
Just then, Hermione came running to Draco wearing a royal blue velvet gown and a cloak. Her hair was loose and her cheeks were flushed pink. All conversations stopped and the three men simply stared at the beautiful woman running towards them.  
  
"Draco," Hermione said as she reached them. She laid a hand on Draco's arm and caught her breath. "Why are there so m..." But she'd stopped when she realized how she must look to the three men.  
  
Emil was the one to break the silence. "Draco," He scolded mockingly. "Have you been keeping a wife all this time from the family? You know mother would have loved to come to your wedding. Why have you not-"  
  
"She is not my wife, Emil." Draco interrupted. "Allow me to introduce to you Lady Hermione Granger. She is a guest of my castle."  
  
Hermione smiled at Emil and then shyly looked down. Her hand on Draco's arm slowly drifted back to her side.  
  
"Ah, Lady Hermione..." Emil said, giving her a bow and taking one of her hands in his and kissing the knuckles lightly. "A pleasure to meet such a beautiful lady."  
  
Hermione laughed. "And I'm glad to meet you too, Lord Emil." And he let go of her hand.  
  
Draco was clenching and unclenching his hands. "What was your question, Hermione?"  
  
"Oh... um... I was just wondering why the multitude of people all of a sudden." She replied, turning to him.  
  
"Ah, forgive me, Lady Hermione." It was Emil who answered. "My mother, Lady Robyn de Gervais, has been reminding me of my cousin, Draco, and that he may need some joy and gaiety this Christmas. So, here I am, along with my troop and some women of my castle to give a grand party!"  
  
"Oh." Hermione said.  
  
"My sister has also come with me, I'm sure you two would get along very well indeed." Emil offered. Hermione smiled in anticipation. "Oh, here she comes now."  
  
Hermione turned her head and saw a petite girl walking towards the group. She looked so much like her brother, with her long black hair and creamy skin. When she neared, Hermione noticed that she had bright hazel eyes. Hermione smiled and the girl smiled.  
  
"Allow me to introduce my one and only sister, Kate de Gervais." Emil said then turned to his sister. "You know your cousin Draco, am I right, Kate?"  
  
"Of course." Kate said smiling at Draco and he simply nodded.  
  
"And this is Sir Gregory Goyle, Draco's most trusted friend." Emil continued, gesturing to Goyle. Hermione noticed the Goyle's smile widened when Kate looked at him.  
  
"And lastly, Lady Hermione Granger. She is Draco's guest." Emil said.  
  
"Glad to meet you, Kate." Hermione said as she smiled at the girl.  
  
"And you as well, Lady Hermione." Kate replied.  
  
"Please, call me Hermione."  
  
"Alright then, Hermione."  
  
"I think Kate, that now is the right time to leave these Lords and Sir to their previous conversation before I came and interrupted them. Let's go help Mathilde and Rose, shall we?" Hermione asked and Kate nodded enthusiastically. After linking her arm with Kate's, Hermione bid adieu to the three men and they went on their way. Kate called a good-bye over her shoulder as the two girls went entered the hall.  
  
Emil smiled and shook his head. "A match made in heaven, don't you think so?"  
  
"Hermione and Kate?" Goyle clarified and Emil nodded.  
  
"Wait until later and they'll be driving us mad." Draco added knowingly. Goyle and Emil both chuckled. Draco simply rolled his eyes.  
  
"Well said, cousin... now, what has been happening around this part of France?"  
  
* * *  
  
The party was set on Christmas night. Draco scowled when he learned that Emil had brought with him a priest. Hermione knew exactly what Draco was feeling at that time and so she simply kept her head down and stifled her laughter.  
  
She'd never in a million years thought that Draco would have a priest in his chapel. His warrior skills were known throughout the whole of France and his demeanor was one to not test. But Draco had accepted the priest (much to his chagrin) and agreed for Christmas mass.  
  
Mealtimes were spent with a whole lot of guests each day. It was no wonder that Emil had also taken with him his cook and other servants to help with Draco's household.  
  
And with each day passing, it was possible that Draco grew more tense when Emil would talk to Hermione. Of course, Emil made no outright move... yet. But, ever the observant Goyle, he would notice how Draco would fume quietly when he thought that no one would notice.  
  
Goyle tried to talk to his friend about it but Draco was never the one to talk about his feelings.  
  
"Admit it, Draco. You are jealous." Goyle said one night as they sat in Draco's sitting room in the tower. But Draco would not listen. "You have to do something, Draco. Otherwise you'll lose her to your own cousin."  
  
"What would I lose if I did not gain it first? How can I lose her when I don't have her?" Draco retorted.  
  
"Then you have to gain her... you have to have her. Take her if necessary!"  
  
"She can be with him for all I care." Draco said, as if not listening to his friend's former reply.  
  
"For all you care? Draco, if you think no one's noticing your state when he even looks at her, then you're sorely mistaken. I see it. You're too blind to your own condition that you refuse to accept that you like her! You may possibly even love her! And she feels the same way!"  
  
"No. She does not"  
  
"Would she have been sick with worry when you didn't come on the appointed day if she didn't feel the same way?" Goyle asked. "I thought that when you separated with the rest of the men during the last days of November that you had been thinking about your feelings about her."  
  
"I wasn't."  
  
"Then where in God's name were you?"  
  
"That's none of your business, Goyle."  
  
"None of my business? I think I'm a worthy enough friend to know where you were during that time. Where were you Draco?"  
  
Draco was silent.  
  
"Where did you go, Draco?" Goyle asked again. His voice rising.  
  
"Fine." Draco said, standing up in exasperation. He ran a hand through his hair and began to pace. "I was getting her a dress."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I was getting her a dress..." Draco repeated. "I was getting her a gown for Christmas."  
  
Goyle was now the one dumbstruck. When he finally found his voice. "You were getting Hermione a gown?"  
  
"Yes!" Draco cried out. He went to a wooden trunk which was at the side of his bed and opened it. He got out a package. With one forceful throw, the package sailed across the room and into Goyle's hands. "There, see for yourself."  
  
The package was light and soft, Goyle then carefully removed the parchment used to wrap it. When he saw it, his eyes went wide and his mouth went agape. He looked at Draco in shock.  
  
"Go." Goyle said.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Go and give it to her."  
  
"When?"  
  
"Right now, you fool! Go and give this to her right now!" Goyle said, wrapping up the dress once again.  
  
"But-"  
  
'No arguing! Go to her room right now and give it to her!" Goyle stood up and handed the package to Draco. "For God's sakes, Draco, it's Christmas Eve! If you don't give it to her now..."  
  
Draco still looked uncertain and so Goyle had to repeat what he said. "Go! Before I lose my temper and drag you to her room!"  
  
Finally, Draco started to walk towards the door. Goyle followed him. And together, they went down in silence. When Draco was in view of Hermione's room, he froze when he saw Emil coming up the stairs and possibly going into Hermione's room.  
  
It was Goyle to rescue again. For Goyle rushed up to Emil before the latter could see Draco.  
  
"Emil!" Goyle boomed and clapped Emil on the back. Emil smiled at Goyle. "What say you to a few drinks downstairs?"  
  
"But I just had my fill of drinks and-"  
  
"Nonsense! There's always room for one more, don't you think?" Goyle insisted. After thinking about it, Emil agreed and both of them descended the stairs. But not before Goyle looking back and giving his encouragement to Draco.  
  
Draco nodded then proceeded walking towards her room. When he got to her door, he paused before knocking and decided that facing a battalion of men with swords and battleaxes alone was easier than doing this. But nevertheless, he was never the one to cower, and so, he knocked on the wooden door to her room.  
  
Hermione was already in her nightgown and was brushing her hair when she heard a knock on her door. "Who is it?" She called.  
  
"It's Draco."  
  
"Come in." Hermione replied as she continued to brush her hair. The door opened and in went a very uneasy Lord, shutting the door behind him. Involuntarily, Hermione's heart beat faster, much like it always did when he was near her or when he looked at her. "What's up?" She asked.  
  
Draco looked at her, confused.  
  
Hermione giggled. "Sorry... it seems that even after a few months in here, I still have to refrain from using any lingo from the future."  
  
"That's true."  
  
"So... What brings you here?" Hermione asked, tilting her head to one side.  
  
"Well..." Draco started, not really knowing what to say. Hermione found him absolutely endearing. "Here." He said, thrusting the package out to her.  
  
Hermione looked at him closely before reaching out and taking the package from him. "For me, Draco?"  
  
He nodded and watched her as she daintily tore open the wrapper. She had laid the package on her lap and when she removed the parchment wrapper, she grew still with shock and confusion.  
  
Inside was a gown. And not just any gown, this one was made of pure white silk. Hermione picked it up and stood. When the gown flowed down to its full length, Hermione gasped. It was of a simple cut, with a v-neckline and bell sleeves. The skirt flowed like water and when Hermione placed it close to her body, she found out that it was of perfect length and possibly of perfect fit.  
  
After a few moments of simply gaping at the dress, she looked up at Draco who was watching her. A dozen expressions danced around his features - from uncertainty to hope. Then she smiled.  
  
"Draco... you shouldn't have." Hermione began. "This is too much..."  
  
"Do you like it?" Draco asked.  
  
"Do I like it?" Hermione repeated setting the dress on her seat carefully. "Are you kidding? I love it!" She exclaimed and immediately went over to Draco and put her arms around his neck. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"  
  
Draco, after the shock dissipating from his body from her outburst, simply held her close and wished that they would stay in that position forever. "Wear it tomorrow."  
  
"I will..." Hermione promised, smiling like crazy.  
  
After a few moments, they pulled away from each other, Hermione still had traces of a smile on her face.  
  
"I'd better go." Draco said. "And you'd better get some sleep. Tomorrow's Christmas day."  
  
"I guess so." Hermione said. Draco then nodded and turned towards the door. "Thank you again, Draco." Hermione said before he stepped out.  
  
He turned, looked at her and Hermione could almost swear that the corners of his eyes were softening, probably the closest he's ever been to smiling, she thought wildly.  
  
"You're welcome. Good Night." Draco said and continued on his way, shutting the door behind him.  
  
Hermione looked again at the dress and shook her head in utter disbelief. Who knew Draco could be so thoughtful? She said to herself. 


	12. Christmas Day

Author's Note: Thank you for all of the reviews! I love getting them and they definitely make my day brighter and my creative juices to flow! Oh yeah, this is probably one of my favorite chapters of my story and you'll know why in a moment! I'm sorry if I fail to make some of the conversation be like in the medieval times. I was too tired to research the words. Oh what am I babbling here for? Read on!  
  
Chapter 12: Christmas Day  
  
Hermione woke up to the sound of bells. It was definitely a nice way to wake up on Christmas morning. Smiling, she got up from bed and got ready for Christmas morning mass.  
  
She had not worn the dress that Draco gave her. Instead, she wore a cream-colored velvet gown that Rose and Mathilde had given her before. She decided that she would wear the silk gown later for the party that evening. After braiding her hair and slipping on her white slippers, she opened the door to her room... and went face to face with no other than Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Draco!" She exclaimed and smiled up at him, closing the door. "Merry Christmas!"  
  
"And to you, Hermione." Draco said then looked up and down at her in a sort of hurt expression, seeing as she did not wear the dress that he gave her the night before. Hermione quickly explained herself.  
  
"I'll wear it later, Draco. Don't worry. I was just saving it because I want it to be special." Hermione said and slowly Draco's hurt began to fade. "I'll wear it for tonight's festivities."  
  
"Very well, Hermione." He replied. "Now, shall we?" He asked, offering his arm to her.  
  
Hermione nodded and took it. Together, they went down and out to the chapel where Christmas Service would be held. When they got there, already many people were kneeling and praying, waiting for the priest to come in. Hermione and Draco were seated in the front pew. After a few minutes, the priest came and said mass.  
  
The mass was purely in Latin. Hermione could only decipher a few words and phrases she recalled from memory. She'd taken up Latin when she was in college, but she never really liked the language.  
  
After the service, the whole group went inside for breakfast.  
  
Laughter and sublime gaiety abounded during that time, mostly due to Emil and his antics. Goyle would laugh along with his friend, but Draco would look on with an impassive expression on his face. Hermione sighed, wondering when Draco would ever smile.  
  
The next part of the day was spent in preparation. Hermione oversaw everything, all the men just had to step back and watch her do everything from the cooking, the cleaning, the decorating and the confirmation of the entertainment.  
  
It was in the afternoon when the three men, namely Draco, Emil and Goyle, were sitting around in the Great Hall, simply looking in awe at Hermione's energy and creativity. She was busy ordering where to put up the torches and the candles. Hermione was thankful for the stone castle, as there was no need for precaution when dealing with fire. Kate was also around, helping in the laying out of the tapestries.  
  
The room was bustling in activity. But the three were simply there to sit and watch.  
  
"Ah, Lady Hermione really is fascinating force, isn't she?" Goyle remarked.  
  
"Aye." The two answered in unison, then looked at each other. Emil smiled, Draco merely raised an eyebrow. Then Draco turned back to watching her.  
  
"So, Draco..." Emil began. "Have you stolen her heart yet?"  
  
"What?" Draco demanded, glaring at his cousin. Goyle tried to keep an impassive face, but he was really on the verge of laughing. Draco, knowing all too well what his friend was thinking, warned him. "Goyle, one chuckle to escape your lips and I would be forced to use measures to keep it shut."  
  
And Goyle straightened up. But it was Emil who was laughing.  
  
"Saints, Draco..." He said in between his laughter. "No need to be so violent. What would Hermione think?"  
  
"What do I care?" Draco replied.  
  
"Oh?" Emil said, in mock surprise. "You don't care about her?"  
  
"Do I have any reason to? And why in God's name are we having this conversation anyway?"  
  
"Well, I am just curious, dear cousin." Emil replied. "But it would seem that you are important to her."  
  
"And-"  
  
"Because," Emil interrupted another one of Draco's questions. "Look at her!" Emil exclaimed and emphasized by gesturing towards her. "She's decorating your hall! She's making all these preparations just for you. You did not ask her to help out, did you? You simply sat back and she does all the work for you."  
  
Draco looked at Hermione for a moment before turning back to Emil who was smiling sincerely. "And so?"  
  
"And so?" Emil repeated and looked to Goyle for help. Goyle put up his hands as if to say that he had no part whatsoever in the conversation that was going on. "Well... is there any chance that I might run into you two... oh, in the garden perhaps, with you professing your undying love to her?"  
  
"What?!" Draco exclaimed, standing up and glaring down at his cousin. "I would do no such thing!"  
  
"Really?" Emil asked, unfazed by Draco's outburst.  
  
"Sit down, Draco..." Goyle prodded. And Draco sat, but he was still glaring at Emil.  
  
Emil continued. "So, there is no love between Hermione and you?"  
  
"Of course not." Draco replied. But he was beginning to doubt every word he said in this particular conversation.  
  
"Well then, you wouldn't mind if I woo her, would you?" Emil asked innocently.  
  
Draco glared once more. He debated on what to answer. He even debated on whether to answer or not. Fortunately, it was at that time when Hermione came toward them.  
  
"Hi guys!" Hermione greeted, smiling at them. The three looked up. Emil and Goyle smiled. Draco though, simply looked up in his own way that made him look more handsome than he already was. Hermione tried her best not to swoon right then and there. Who would ever turn away from this man when he looked at you like that?  
  
Oh yes, she decided that he was definitely the man for her. In fact, not only did she decide it, but she had been the lucky girl to have fate decide for her!  
  
So, she continued. "What were you three talking about anyway?"  
  
Emil looked pointedly at Draco, but Draco ignored him.  
  
"Nothing important." Draco replied before Emil could say anything.  
  
"Oh, it seemed though that you were going to get into a fight a while ago." Hermione commented. "But then, I guess it was just the lighting in here, making shadows and making me think that you guys were on the verge of fighting. So, anyway, do you like the decorations? And the whole Great Hall?" Hermione said in one breath. She was, for some reason, nervous. And she always babbled when she was nervous.  
  
Goyle laughed and Emil smiled. Draco just looked at her in what she hoped what amusement. But then, it could've been the lighting making shadows and making her think that... Hermione grinned at her own folly.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry to leave you three, but I have to go and change for tonight's festivities." Hermione said, giving a small bow.  
  
"Wait, I'll accompany you." Emil spoke up, standing up and walking towards her. She smiled at him and thanked him before taking his arm and together they went up.  
  
Draco merely looked at them and he felt definite twinges of jealousy. In his anger, mostly to himself, he stood up and made his way towards the tower.  
  
Goyle looked on in helplessness. He did not know Emil's motives for this 'wooing' so to speak. But what he did know was that Draco was starting to give in and admit that he had some feeling for Hermione, other than him being the host and she being a guest.  
  
And that was when he briefly looked up into the heavens and prayed that Christmas would have something in store for Draco other than a very big headache.  
  
* * *  
  
The party was progressing along great, or so Hermione observed. She was currently sitting on a chair which had the perfect view of the jesters. Every once in a while, she would burst out laughing when she would see those people make definite fools of themselves. And what was more was Sir Goyle was right beside her, making those jokes and critiques that made her giggle like a schoolgirl.  
  
The food was exceptional. Of course, Hermione knew that. She ate until she couldn't take it anymore. The whole Great Hall was alive with the people talking, laughing and dancing. As the jesters performed, the musicians were continuously playing. The night was still young and people from the village and other near places were still coming in for the festivities.  
  
Hermione settled back into the high-backed chair. Then she looked at Goyle... and smiled. Goyle was staring off into the other side of the room. His eyes were full of longing, as she noted. She turned to where he was still staring and found the one responsible for such a longing gaze.  
  
Kate de Gervais. Hermione shook his head and smiled. Leave it to Goyle to simply sit and watch her from afar when he could go up to her and ask her to dance. She was wearing an exquisite gown of golden-colored velvet, her hair was fixed similarly to how Hermione's hair was fixed: with an ornate fillet or a tiara. Kate was contented to watch the dancing couples, after she had no one to dance with.  
  
"Goyle," She called and he snapped out of his reverie and looked at her somewhat dazedly. "Why don't you go and dance with Kate?" She asked, smiling. Goyle's jaw dropped and he looked at her with wide eyes. Hermione laughed. "Oh Goyle, don't think that no one's been noticing the way you've been looking at her, because I have!"  
  
"B-but..." Goyle stammered. He wasn't used to being interrogated (or rather, informed) on his feelings. He knew about courtly love and everything, but only when it applied to someone else and not him. He had never been able to use what he knew on any particular girl.  
  
"Shush, Goyle." Hermione said kindly. "Go and ask her to dance, before someone sees her and beats you to her!"  
  
Now, Goyle was torn. Ever since the party and ever since Hermione had come down to join it, every male had turned to look and gape at her. They still were looking at her, waiting for the moment that she was alone and they would no doubt take turns in dancing with her. Hermione was of course oblivious to all the attention she was receiving. He couldn't leave her alone, could he? If he did, Draco would surely hang him.  
  
But where was Draco anyway? Goyle looked around. He saw no tall man with blonde hair.  
  
"Goyle, better go to her right now, before I drag you to her and humiliate you!" Hermione threatened, straightening up and putting her hands on her hips (as much as she could with her sitting down, of course). She narrowed her eyes and looked at him with much venom (or mock-venom) as she could muster.  
  
"But Lady Hermione-"  
  
"No excuses, Goyle! Go and dance with her this instant. I'll be fine right here."  
  
Goyle thought about it. Yes, he desperately wanted to dance with Kate... And so, finally, after much debate with himself, he nodded his head. Hermione smiled at him and gave him a few words of encouragement. Then, she more or less pushed him off his chair and watched him straighten his clothes and walk towards her. He looked back once and smiled at her before continuing on.  
  
Yes! One point for Hermione's match-making skills! Hermione thought to herself before placing a hand on her mouth and laughing discreetly. Now that she was alone, she had a lot more freedom to think about other things.  
  
Like where in the world was Draco?  
  
She had not seen him ever since coming down. She assumed that he was simply putting off his appearance until later so that he would come in a grand way... but he wasn't like that.  
  
Maybe he's still changing or something, Hermione thought. Or maybe he's anti-social. Or maybe-  
  
But her thoughts were cut as she felt a hand on her arm. She looked up and saw Emil smiling at her. Feeling somewhat disappointed that it wasn't Draco, she smiled a small smile at the black-haired man who was towering over her.  
  
"Good evening to you, Hermione." Emil said, removing his hand.  
  
"Good evening, Emil." Hermione replied. "So... how's the party? Is it up to your expectations?"  
  
"Aye. And much more." Emil paused as the band struck up another tune. "I came here, Hermione, to ask you if you would care to dance with me." He then bowed and held out his hand.  
  
"Oh... I would love to dance with you, Emil." Hermione said, smiling and taking his hand. He pulled her to her feet and guided her to where the other couples were dancing. The music was quite fast, and Hermione not knowing what the dances were during this time, let Emil simply guide her. The whole "dance floor" as she termed it, was alive with twirling and skipping. Hermione laughed at her awkwardness and Emil laughed with her as he took her hands in his and led her to another set of dance steps.  
  
As Hermione and Emil danced, a figure in the back watched them with a steady gaze. He had just come into the Great Hall when he was faced the current scene. He looked at Hermione, with her face alight with laughter and she was dressed in the gown that he gave her. White silk suited her, she looked like an angel. Then he turned to the man across her and he felt the undeniable urge to walk up to them and haul him off her.  
  
He stayed that way for a few more minutes. The more he watched, unable to move, the more the fury inside him began to build. Then, without warning, he whirled around, almost sending a servant crashing to the ground. Without a word of apology, he strode to the staircase and took two steps at a time in ascending. He did not stop nor decrease his speed until he was alone in his tower.  
  
Without any other thought except for the way Hermione looked when she was in Emil's arms, Draco took his fist and slammed it against the stone wall with all his might.  
  
* * *  
  
After about an hour more of dancing and being enthralled with Emil's anecdotes and stories, Hermione once again searched for Draco.  
  
Oh where in the world is he? Hermione wondered, looking around. After a few more head turns and twists which were futile, Hermione decided to do the looking herself. She excused herself from Emil, saying that she needed to get away first from the stuffiness of the Great Hall. When he started to accompany her, she quickly waved him off, saying that he should stay and enjoy himself in the party. Before he could say anything else, she quickly dashed off to the entrance of the Great Hall.  
  
Once she was in the entrance hall, she breathed a sigh of relief. The revelry was far away now; she could even barely hear the laughter and the gaiety. She looked around, wondering where she should go first in her search for Draco. She thought... and came up with the most probable location: The Tower.  
  
Wasting no time at all, she raced up the stairs, thankful that no one was there. She was breathing heavily when she reached the landing, but paid her concerns no mind. She was intent on finding Draco. She walked briskly to where the stairs to the tower was located. When she was there, a thought entered her mind. The stairway was never lit with torches, since almost no one ever went up there and Draco knew the way by heart. And Hermione was never the one to like dark stairs or rooms.  
  
But being the ever determined woman that she was, light or no light, she squared her shoulders and headed up. She felt her way going there though, taking one step at a time and feeling the cold wall. Before she knew it, she was on the landing... and the door to Draco's room was slightly ajar.  
  
She eased it open, wincing at the creak it made on its hinges. She peered inside. Three candles were lit on the mantle. There was no fire and it was only then that Hermione felt the chill of the night air. The moon, as she guessed, was covered by the clouds, making it hard to see inside.  
  
"Draco?" She called tentatively. There was no answer and so Hermione let herself in. She walked only a few steps then was met with the harsh wind.  
  
"Draco?" She repeated, rubbing her hands over her arms in an attempt to get herself warm. She walked towards the three candles, knowing only the placement of the furniture through memory.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Came a cold and hard voice. Hermione gasped and jumped when she heard him. She put her hand over her chest and took deep breaths.  
  
"You scared me..." Hermione replied after a few moments. She then continued to walk until her knees felt the soft fabric of the couch. "You wouldn't mind me sitting down, right?" And so she sat and wrapped her arms around herself. She always babbled when she was nervous, and right now, she was so nervous she could swear that she would have a heart attack right then and there. "Where are you, anyway? I mean, it seems really strange for me to talk in the dark..." She laughed, nervously. "I feel that I should be in a mental institute or something. But then, you don't find those in here, right? I mean-"  
  
"I'm by the window. What are you doing here?" He interrupted. His voice was void of emotion except almost-anger. Hermione swallowed, she didn't know why he got angry and so, she decided to simply answer him.  
  
"I was looking for you." She replied, willing her voice not to break. She was nervous and scared and cold. That did not make a good combination. She licked her lips. "It seems inappropriate that the lord of the castle wishes to be confined in his tower when all his guests are enjoying themselves downstairs."  
  
"Inappropriate?" Draco echoed. "It is not when this lord cannot even find enjoyment in the midst of people. Therefore he wishes to be alone."  
  
"Draco, what are you-"  
  
"Have you been enjoying yourself?" Draco asked. "Surely, Emil has been more of a host than I could ever be." Hermione grimaced at the tone that Draco used, especially when he said Emil's name.  
  
"I'd have you know, Draco." Hermione replied. "That Emil has been entertaining twice as hard to make up for your absence downstairs... But..." She paused, pressing her lips together. "No, I haven't been enjoying myself down there."  
  
"And the reason is?"  
  
"I keep looking around for you." Hermione answered without hesitation.  
  
He was silent. Hermione resumed rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "It's freezing in here, Draco. I wonder how you manage to stay here in your room without a fire."  
  
"I didn't need one." Draco answered. "Why were you looking for me?"  
  
"Well, aside from the fact that you are being a very rude host, leaving all your guests to fend for themselves," Hermione began. "I was looking for you because I was wondering where you were on Christmas night... and why you decided to just be on your own tonight. And besides, I was getting bored down there."  
  
"Bored?" Draco repeated.  
  
"Bored." Hermione confirmed, nodding her head.  
  
"How can you be, when I thought that Emil was entertaining you and others? I know that he has a talent for keeping his audiences captivated with his stories. You laugh, you smile. How can you be bored?"  
  
"Well I just was, even with Emil and all his storytelling." Hermione insisted. "I laugh and smile to keep my mind off you. But once I stop, I keep thinking about where you are and what you're doing." She paused. "I was getting bored because you're not there, Draco."  
  
"Why? I don't recall ever keeping you captivated... I rarely talk and tell stories." Draco said.  
  
"You do..." Hermione said softly. Incredibly, she felt the anxiety lift from her body. "You do captivate me... I don't know how, I don't recall the exact time or the exact place... but you do. When I was down there, all I thought about was that the party would be so much better if you were there."  
  
He was silent for a few moments. And she stared down at her hands. As if to intervene, the clouds covering the moon were blown by the wind. The moonlight illuminated the room... and Draco saw Hermione as if he was seeing her for the first time.  
  
"Come here." Draco suddenly spoke up. The coldness and harshness of his voice were gone. It went back to his normal tone. Hermione turned towards him and saw him leaning on the wall beside the window, looking at her. Without thinking twice, she stood up and with the help of the bright moonlight, walked over to where he was and looked up at him.  
  
He was clad in black velvet. Everything from what Hermione could only know as his shirt and his pants were in black velvet. The color contrasted with his pale skin, even made paler with the help of the moonlight. His hair was left loose and it glinted in the moonlight. His eyes were a brighter shade of gray.  
  
"Look out." He said, tearing his eyes away from her and looking outside. She followed suit... and was met with the most incredible sight she'd ever seen.  
  
The stars were out, twinkling their own greetings to any person who happened to look up and see them. The moon was big and full, lighting everything for miles. And the snow...! The snow sparkled and shined, almost blinding her. Due to the abrupt adjustment to the bright light, Hermione squinted at first, then was able to open her eyes fully and take in the scene.  
  
"Oh my... it's so beautiful, Draco!" Hermione gushed, smiling and looking up at him. He nodded.  
  
"Now do you see why I wanted to spend the time here, instead of down there?" He asked.  
  
Hermione laughed and nodded. Then she looked out again, not able to tear her eyes from the wonderful scene.  
  
"Do you still smile and laugh to keep your mind off me?" Draco asked.  
  
"No." Hermione replied. "You've successfully captivated me ever since I came in here. I don't smile or laugh to keep my mind off you... I smile and laugh because you make me."  
  
He was silent for so long after that that Hermione finally had to look up at him. The second that she did, he immediately bent down and kissed her fully on the lips. Hermione was so shocked that she went rigid. But then slowly, subtly, surely, she closed her eyes and let herself be pulled down in his kiss.  
  
His lips were soft and gentle on hers. His hands came up to her waist and lower back, pulling her closer and holding her in place. She didn't argue. After all, she was busy returning and deepening the kiss. Her hands ran up his hard chest and stole around his neck, wanting to be closer to him.  
  
Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Everything was perfect. The kiss went on and on, from soft and gentle to almost hard and insistent. Hermione felt as if her body was on fire... and still she couldn't get enough.  
  
The kiss went on for an eternity more before Draco pulled away in the most gentle of ways. He opened his eyes and waited for her to open hers. When she did, she smiled. They were still holding each other close, never wanting to let go. And they simply stared into each other's eyes.  
  
Hermione broke the eye contact when she turned her head to the side and promptly blushed. Draco simply watched her as the pink appeared on her cheeks. He loosened his grip on her body as she pulled her hands back, trailing down his muscular arms. That's when she felt the wound.  
  
She gasped and looked at his right hand. Dried blood was evident and two of his knuckles seemed to be broken. "Draco, what happened to your hand?!" Hermione exclaimed.  
  
It took him quite a while to tear his eyes from her face, look down at his hand and remember. "Accident." He said finally.  
  
"What kind of accident?" Hermione demanded, stepping back and holding his hand in hers. Her fingers brushed over the wound, making Draco momentarily lose all feeling except for the softness of her hands cradling his broken one.  
  
It was then that he knew and accepted that he would have her. No matter how long it took or how hard it would be, he vowed to himself that he would have her. His life wouldn't be worth living without her making him feel as if he was the most powerful man on this earth. And now that she did, he would do as all powerful men would do, and exhaust all possible means to achieve what he wanted.  
  
And what he wanted right now was Hermione Granger.  
  
"Draco, what kind of accident?" Hermione repeated, beginning to worry. She looked up at him.  
  
In an attempt to make her worry less about him, he answered her question with a spark of humor. "A stone wall fell on it."  
  
Hermione's brow furrowed and he looked at her with a gleam in his eye. Hermione repeated his answer in her head before realization dawning on her... and she laughed. Instantly, all worries left her and she knew that Draco had some humor still left inside of him, despite the hard demeanor. When she looked back at him, she almost fainted from shock when she saw a half-smile on his face.  
  
Her jaw dropped and she stared at him. "You're smiling, Draco. You're actually smiling!" She smiled up at him.  
  
"Ssshh..." He replied, putting a finger to his lips. "Not a word, lest others would use it against me."  
  
And Hermione laughed again. "Yes and your reputation might be in a predicament after all the people learn that Draco Malfoy learned how to smile." Hermione replied.  
  
"Exactly." He said.  
  
Hermione tilted her head to the side and considered him. "I like it when you smile." She said finally.  
  
"Remind me then, to give you smiles more often."  
  
"I would like that very much." She replied. "Don't grin first though, I might need to sit down for that."  
  
He nodded. "As you wish, my lady."  
  
"Now, can we go and join the festivities downstairs?" Hermione asked and Draco agreed. Then, he took her hand and held it in his. Hermione first looked at her hand in his unscathed one and looked up at him and smiled. He gave her that half-smile. Together, they went down the stairs of the tower, not thinking about the steepness or that there was no light.  
  
Sometime during the journey which they were taking in a leisurely pace, Hermione took the initiative and intertwined her fingers with his, then she brought his hand closer to her body and clasped her other around it. She continued to walk as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But Draco simply looked at her, shocked.  
  
They made it downstairs and when they entered the Great Hall, Goyle was the first one to see them. At first, he was about to welcome them to the party. But then he noticed their hands and the way Hermione sidled up to Draco... and Goyle stood with his mouth agape.  
  
Hermione laughed at Goyle's appearance and Draco shook his head. Before all the people came to know that the Lord of the Castle was here, Hermione took the time to pull Draco down and whisper in his ear.  
  
"What about your hand?"  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"The right one, silly."  
  
"What about it?"  
  
"Doesn't it hurt?"  
  
"No... I don't think so."  
  
"We'll take care of it tomorrow, alright?"  
  
"Alright."  
  
And soon everyone took notice and the party went on, welcoming Draco and Hermione into the festivities.  
  
* * *  
  
The party lasted for a few hours more before the people started to leave. It was then that Draco gently pulled Hermione away, as they have been together for the whole time, and gently guided her to her room. Hermione didn't argue.  
  
Once they reached the door to her room, they stopped and turned to each other. Hermione smiled up at him.  
  
"I forgot. I never gave you a Christmas present." She said.  
  
Draco shook his head. "There's no need."  
  
"Nah... I'll get you one, even if it's going to be a little, no wait, a lot late." She answered chuckling.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Hermione."  
  
"Merry Christmas, Draco."  
  
And with that, Hermione placed her hand on his arm, reached up on tiptoe and kissed him sweetly on the cheek. When she was about to settle back down, he turned his head to the side and met her lips. His hands quickly came up to support her and gently stroke her hair. Hermione placed one hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer to her.  
  
Little did they know, that two pairs of eyes were watching them from the stairway. One was green, the other was brown. The owners were both in ear-to-ear grins. After a few moments, the two figures in the stairway began to descend the stairs, relieved that Draco had finally given in to her.  
  
Ah yes, it was a wonderful Christmas indeed. 


	13. Bringing Obscurities to Light

Author's Note: Thanks for all of your reviews! Like, the first three reviews I got all had the words "It's about time!" in them. I was laughing and smiling all day, so thank you! There's more to come, of course, but this is only the beginning! I hope you all like it! Once again, thank you for all your reviews! On with the story!  
  
Chapter 13: Bringing Obscurities to Light  
  
The next day was bright and cheery. The sun was out and it made the fallen snow sparkle. Almost all people in the castle household did not wake till the late morning as with the effects of staying up late.  
  
Draco, though, was never the one to get up so late. So was Mathilde, as she being the one who first trained Draco to wake up at dawn every morning. While waiting for the others to get up, Draco had himself a light breakfast before going out into the stables and checking on the animals.  
  
Emil awoke not long after Draco had gone into the stables. He knew he had to be up and ready as he was returning back to Aquitaine along with the rest of his troop by early afternoon. Aquitaine bordered Brittany and so the journey back was not long and hard. He had talked to his sister, Kate, a few days before about letting her stay in the Malfoy castle with the reason that Hermione might need a friend to talk with. Kate agreed at once, rushing up to her brother and giving him a big hug.  
  
Soon, all the people in the castle were up and getting ready for the new day. Emil's troop was getting their things packed and their horses ready. It was at around mid-morning that Hermione came down from her room and was met with an overzealous Kate.  
  
"Hermione! I have some good news to tell you!" Kate exclaimed, rushing over to her friend and giving her a hug.  
  
Hermione laughed. "I had a feeling you would be telling me something good today."  
  
"Why so?"  
  
"Because I could see your smile from the stairway."  
  
Kate laughed and together they walked to the dining hall and Kate ushered Hermione to sit. She was so giddy that Hermione couldn't help but be giddy as well. The mood was definitely infectious.  
  
"Well," Kate started. She had sat on the chair beside Hermione and leaned forward, not minding that she had a bowl of soup right in front of her. Kate seemed to have forgotten her appetite. "MY brother told me a few days ago that I would not be leaving with him... I would stay here, with you!"  
  
"Really? That's wonderful, Kate!" Hermione said and they both laughed. "But why only tell me now?"  
  
"That's because I wanted to surprise you!" Kate replied.  
  
"Oh." Hermione nodded knowingly. "And I think that I'm not the only reason why you were so happy to stay here." She said nonchalantly and gestured toward Goyle who was talking with Emil a few feet from where they sat.  
  
Kate turned toward where Hermione was pointing and removed her gaze at once, blushing. Hermione laughed.  
  
"How did you know?" Kate asked in wonder.  
  
"Who do you think persuaded Sir Goyle to go and dance with you last night?"  
  
If it were possible, Kate blushed even more. Hermione shook her head and began to eat. The next few minutes were spent in silence as they both ate. After that, they both agreed to go out into the inner bailey after putting on their shawls and boots.  
  
Once outside, they walked along the perimeter of the inner bailey, arm in arm, talking about the scenery and the castle and the people. Then, Kate decided to switch the topic of the conversation.  
  
"Hermione?" Kate began tentatively. Hermione looked expectantly at her. "Forgive me if I'm being so blunt, but what happened between you and Lord Draco last night?"  
  
Hermione froze. Or at least she thought she'd frozen but in actuality, they were still walking. She didn't expect to cross-examine her current relationship with Draco Malfoy. Were they lovers? That soon? Oh sure, they had kissed. But what did a kiss mean in medieval times? Somehow, telling Kate that she and Draco had kissed was unsettling. It was only what, twelve hours after her first kiss with the man...  
  
"Hermione?" Kate asked.  
  
She snapped back to the present. "Let's just say I got to know him better." She answered feebly.  
  
"Oh."  
  
Fortunately, as all things in medieval times seem to go, Rose had come up to them and told them that Lord Draco wanted to see them at once. And so, the conversation ended and both girls rushed up to the entrance hall. Once there, they saw that the three men were all standing and assumedly waiting for them, demanding some kind of explanation.  
  
The two girls promptly bowed their heads.  
  
"And what may I ask is so interesting outside that that both of you forgot to ask permission to go there?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Sorry." Hermione replied meekly. "We forgot."  
  
"Not to worry, my dear ladies, Draco here is simply being the shall we say, concerned Lord of the castle." Emil responded, lightly placing emphasis on the word 'concerned'.  
  
Hermione and Kate smiled brightly at the three, the feeling of anxiety passing. Hermione stole a glance at Draco and found that he really wasn't too angry. She smiled at him.  
  
"Well now, before anything else and before I take my leave, I suggest you two go up and change into some dry clothes." Emil said, pointing to their soaked skirts. The two blushed and giggled. Then they cheerfully went up the stairs.  
  
"I told you they would be driving us mad." Draco commented as they strode towards the Great Hall and sat down on some chairs near the fire. Goyle snickered.  
  
"Aye, that is true. But then, they won't be my problem now, would they?" Emil asked teasingly.  
  
And to Goyle and Emil's disbelief, Draco gave them his half-smile.  
  
"And now he smiles!" Emil exclaimed, clapping and laughing to himself.  
  
"Saints, Draco. It has been a long time since we've seen you smile." Goyle added cheerfully. Then his tone grew serious. "It wouldn't be because of a certain Lady's affections, now would it?"  
  
Draco simply kept his head down, refusing to acknowledge the question. The other two laughed heartily.  
  
"It's a pity that I didn't meet Hermione before Olivia. Otherwise, I would have really wooed her." Emil commented.  
  
"What?" Draco snapped to attention. "Who's Olivia?"  
  
"My betrothed." Emil answered, smiling.  
  
"You're betrothed?!" Draco exclaimed. His jaw went slack and his eyes grew wide. Emil laughed at his expression and Goyle laughed along with him. Draco then turned to Goyle. "You knew about this and you didn't tell me?"  
  
"Ah, Draco, Draco..." Emil replied, shaking his head in mock pity. "How else were we supposed to get you to your senses and woo Hermione?"  
  
"We didn't have any choice, Draco." Goyle added. "It was either this or we had to lock the two of you in a room until you came to your senses."  
  
"So, all those things with you 'wooing' her were all an act? To get me to woo her?" Draco asked.  
  
"More or less." Emil answered.  
  
"I should have the both of you hanged." Draco said malevolently. But the other two laughed it off.  
  
"But think of the good that has come out from it all," Emil pointed out. "Goyle and I were almost caught jumping up and down in joy when we saw you two together last night in the Great Hall, we couldn't be any happier."  
  
"Well, we did become happier after that!" Goyle said mischievously.  
  
"What are you two talking about?" Draco asked, confused and slightly nervous about what they might be suggesting.  
  
"Hmmm... let's see, shall we?" Emil said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Let's just say that we stumbled into you and Hermione..."  
  
"Outside her room..." Goyle continued.  
  
"In a very interesting position." Emil finished.  
  
Once Draco realized what they were saying, he placed his head in his hands and groaned, much to the joy of the other two. "Don't you two have other things to say other than tease me about my current disposition?" Draco asked, annoyed.  
  
"Well, before all this lovely talk, I was about to ask you if you would care to come at my wedding." Emil said, hopeful that Draco would say yes.  
  
"When are you to be wed?" Draco asked.  
  
"On the 18th of February." Emil supplied, then in reply to Draco's confused look, he added. "I know, I know, February's a cold month, but my mother insists. And Olivia likes the snow."  
  
"Where is the wedding?" Draco asked.  
  
"My home... in Aquitaine." Emil said, smiling. "You can bring Hermione along, I'm sure she'd love the ride and I'm sure she'd love to meet Olivia."  
  
"I'll tell her."  
  
"So I would expect you to be there?"  
  
"Aye." Draco said, then turning to Goyle. "And you knew of all of this?"  
  
Goyle nodded, smiling. "Emil told me that if I happen to tell you before he did, he would personally see to my hanging." He said cheerfully.  
  
"Either way, you'll still be hanged!" Draco replied.  
  
"Ah yes, it seems that my destiny seems to see me hanged." Goyle said dramatically.  
  
"And a pity, otherwise you wouldn't have the chance to woo a certain maiden properly." Draco commented knowingly.  
  
And it was Emil and Goyle's turn to be shocked. Draco simply gave a smirk and stood up with an all-important air to him. He walked away. The two men looked at each other. Emil was confused, Goyle was nervous. After all, Kate was Emil's sister.  
  
"What was he talking about?" Emil asked Goyle.  
  
Goyle swallowed the lump in his throat. How was he supposed to tell Emil that he liked Kate? "Ah... well... I don't really know."  
  
"You're wooing a maiden and you don't know?" Emil asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"I'm not wooing any maiden..." Goyle answered all too quickly.  
  
"Goyle, you are a terrible liar!" Emil laughed. "I will let that one pass, but should I hear it again, I would most certainly use all my skills to corner you into telling who the lucky girl is."  
  
Goyle smiled along with his friend, feeling an immense relief that Emil was too cheery to press him on who it really was.  
  
Giggles were heard somewhere out in the entrance hall and the two had no doubt on who were currently laughing. Aye, put two girls together and you get nothing but giggles and sweet smiles feigning innocence. Standing up from their comfortable chairs, they strode towards the entrance of the Great Hall where Draco was leaning on one of the doorframes.  
  
"Watching your prize, Lord Malfoy?" Emil asked as they came up to Draco. Draco turned and saw his cousin smiling at him.  
  
"No..." But before Emil's eyebrow could raise in question and skepticism, Draco quickly followed up his statement. "I have not won her yet."  
  
"Ah, then you must win her!" Emil proposed.  
  
"And how would I do that?" Draco asked, stealing a glance at the two girls who were busy talking about something. Both had worn their day dresses and slippers with shawls.  
  
"By showing her some of your talents!" Goyle suggested.  
  
"And what might those be?" Draco asked.  
  
"You could write her a verse or two..." Emil suggested.  
  
"I have no talent for poetry." Draco replied.  
  
"You could sing for her some songs..." Goyle brought up.  
  
"I do not know any songs..." Draco said even though both Emil and Goyle knew that he had a rich, baritone voice that could send any woman melting at his feet. Not that he'd ever used it on women before. He might use it now, knowing that he was venturing off to uncharted emotional territory of the pleasurable kind.  
  
"Then why don't you paint for her!" Emil said, smiling widely.  
  
Draco thought about it, then looked at her again. She was still deep in conversation with Kate and did not seem to notice his glances. "I have not picked up a paintbrush for a very long time." He said in a flat voice.  
  
"Then learn how to again, Draco." Emil whispered encouragingly. "Learn it again. for her. For Hermione." Without waiting for a retort, he went over to both girls and greeted them. Goyle and Draco soon followed and soon they were saying their good-byes to Emil.  
  
Emil's troop was almost ready to begin their journey, and so, Emil made the most out of the time left. After politely asking Hermione if she would care to step away for a moment, he led her to a corner which was too far for the others to hear. Draco's warning look was dismissed, as if to say that he wasn't planning anything drastic.  
  
"It has been a great pleasure getting to know you, Lady Hermione." Emil said, smiling down at her.  
  
"It's true for me too, Lord Emil." Hermione replied.  
  
"But before I go, there is something I have to ask and you have to answer in all truthfulness." He paused and Hermione nodded expectantly, waiting for him to continue. "Do you care about Draco?"  
  
Hermione was stumped. Did she care about Draco? But it was too soon... "Well... I don't know yet, Emil."  
  
"Then know and know soon." Emil said gravely. "And if the answer is yes, then give him all the care in the world. For it has been a long time since he'd received it."  
  
"Oh." Hermione said, for lack of anything to say.  
  
"He had been through some tough times in the past, those stories I will not reveal now. It is only right that he be the one to tell you himself." Emil added. "He still has some demons inside of him..."  
  
"Then what must I do?"  
  
"Teach him how to overcome them. Prod him into letting other people in... Teach him to live again. How to love. Maybe, if he's willing, he would tell you about his past. And then you would understand."  
  
Hermione digested all of this and then finally nodded, making Emil smile. Before they went back to the group, Emil added one more detail.  
  
"Oh, Draco's birthday is coming up."  
  
"When?" Hermione asked, a plan already forming in her head.  
  
"Ssh... on the twenty-second of January. He will turn thirty." Emil replied, raising his eyebrows comically. Hermione laughed. And Emil added, "I want a detailed account of the festivities, agreed?"  
  
Hermione nodded. Then Emil, with all said, led her back to the group. Then after saying his goodbyes, he sped off to his troop, got on his horse and led them away, calling out a "God bless you all!" after him.  
  
The four turned to each other, smiling. Well, the three were smiling, Draco was wondering what the hell Emil had told Hermione. And so, as he could not stand it any longer, whisked her (politely, of course) away from the other two. He had led her to the Great Hall and turned to her.  
  
"What did Emil say to you?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.  
  
Hermione's face brightened up and she smiled. "Oh nothing, except for a few instructions on how to care for you."  
  
"Pardon me?"  
  
"He said..." Hermione took a few steps closer to Draco. "That I should care for you..." She was barely inches from him. "And I..." She placed a hand on his shoulder and reached up. "Fully intend to fulfill it." And she kissed him on the lips.  
  
It was a brief, brushing kiss but Draco was definitely shocked. When she came back down and looked at him, smiling sweetly. He had no more questions to ask.  
  
"And I plan to start now." Hermione declared, taking his hand and dragging him off to the kitchens. He could not complain, nor stop her from leading him. How could he? And so, he agreed to be let sit down on one of the chairs and simply watch as Hermione whipped him something he's never tasted before: pancakes. 


	14. Relearning How to Live

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! I'm glad you liked the 'pancake' bit, it just came to me when I was writing the story. Can you believe that? Oh well... I'm also glad that you liked the whole thing with Emil being betrothed and all that! For those who are wondering if Hermione's going back to the future, well, I'm not giving anything away yet. But if you're wondering how things will work out in the end, don't worry... I got it all planned out! So just sit tight and read on!  
  
Chapter 14: Relearning How to Live  
  
A week or two had passed; Draco didn't have the presence of mind to count. All he knew was the days were endless when he was with Hermione. Oh sure, he didn't openly admit it, but it was true.  
  
He looked down at his right hand, which she bandaged sometime ago. He recalled how he'd merely sat down on a hard chair and watched her as she went all about, fussing over his injury. She'd told him repeatedly never to hit stone walls again, even though she knew not of the reason why he hit a stone wall in the first place.  
  
Hermione had cleaned the wound, dried it ever so carefully and bandaged it with a clean white cloth she'd appropriate as gauze. She was about to leave him there when he grabbed her hand, pulled her down to him and kissed her on the lips. And from what she gathered from her last kiss with Draco, his kisses were intoxicating... even more than intoxicating because it enveloped you almost to the point that you never wanted to pull away.  
  
When they did pull away, Hermione blushed when she realized that she was sitting on his lap. After all, he did pull her to him. Standing up and not meeting his gaze, which earned her a half-smile from him, she quickly got the things she'd used and went off to the kitchens.  
  
Draco snapped out of his trance when he saw a flash of forest green. He was sitting at the dining table that crisp January morning when he saw Hermione coming towards him in that green velvet gown. He stood up and nonchalantly pulled her chair out for her, as it became a habit for him.  
  
"Good morning, Draco." Hermione greeted as she sat down. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome. And a good morning to you as well." Draco replied, sitting down as well. "What brings you here this early? You don't usually wake up at this time."  
  
"I'm glad you're keeping track of my waking up and sleeping, my lord." Hermione teased and Draco raised an eyebrow. "And to answer your question, it's because I wanted to get a head start on the day!" She said, smiling. Little did Draco know, Hermione was knee-deep in her planning for his birthday party.  
  
"Very well." Draco said as Rose brought in the food and greeted the two of them. They first ate in companionable silence... when Hermione felt it was the right time to ask, she pounced on the occasion.  
  
"Draco," She started, propping an elbow on the table and leaning towards him. He looked at her expectantly. "What are you doing today?"  
  
"Nothing. It's too cold out for the men to train. Why are you asking?" Draco asked.  
  
"Well..." Hermione stalled, trying to project her best sweet look at him. "Do you want to help me sort out your oh so lovely stuff in your storage room?"  
  
"What needs sorting?" Draco asked, his brow furrowing.  
  
"Oh lots of things... parchments, old armor, a few paintings." Hermione replied. "So, are you going to help me? The windows are boarded up and you can definitely help me with that..."  
  
After thinking about it, Draco finally nodded and Hermione smiled at him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She exclaimed happily.  
  
And so, after breakfast, they both went up to the storage room and surveyed what needed to be fixed. Draco looked at the room as if he had never seen it before. There was still the dust and the cobwebs everywhere, but there was an amount of space to work in. Hermione looked at Draco and laughed at his expression.  
  
"You look like you've never even seen this room before, Draco." Hermione teased.  
  
"I haven't, to be honest with you." Draco replied. "When did you learn of this room?"  
  
"When you went away... I had nothing to do at that time except to write." Hermione said. "How do you think I got all the tapestries for Christmas?"  
  
"They were in here?" Draco asked, obviously impressed by her creativity. Hermione nodded and she went over to the window.  
  
"Draco, you think you could remove this board so that we could see the room better? The candles are such as drag." Hermione asked, turning to him and pointing to the thin wooden board for emphasis. Draco nodded and went over to her. With one sharp tug, the board was off and a few snowflakes entered through the window, making Hermione smile.  
  
"You're going to catch a cold." Draco commented, placing the board aside.  
  
"No I'm not. It's warm in here..." Hermione said. Then without saying anything else, she went over to some of the wooden crates and boxes and rummaged through them.  
  
Within a few hours, Hermione had sorted almost everything into neat piles. One was for throwing out, one for using sometime soon, one for decorating and one for keeping. Draco got up from where he had been sitting and stretched. He was definitely tired... and immensely hungry. Hermione was still busy with some tapestries that could still be used. It was amazing that Draco had all these beautiful, unused yards of cloth.  
  
"Aren't you hungry, Hermione?" Draco asked, still stretching and was stifling a yawn.  
  
"No, not really. You can go and eat if you want... I'm fine right here." Hermione replied, still busy with her sorting.  
  
Now Draco was brought up never to leave a woman just to go and eat. He debated on her reply. Maybe she thought that she wasn't hungry, but in reality she was. "I can't leave you here, Hermione... It's not polite."  
  
"Go and eat, Draco. I'm fine... I know that you're pretty tired and hungry and I was the one who dragged you to help in the first place, so just go and eat. I'll be fine here. I'll eat later." Hermione answered, not looking up from what she was doing.  
  
Draco shook his head. Hermione could just be so stubborn at times... He looked at her, crouched down on some other thing she found fascinating and then it hit him. Smirking, he neared her and without warning, he grabbed her waist and pulled her to her feet. She let out a surprised gasp and when she was set down on her feet, she whirled around on him in anger.  
  
"Draco Malfoy! What do you think you're doing?!" She demanded apprehensively, crossing her arms over her chest. "Is it not rude also when you simply pick up a lady just like that?"  
  
"It is not when she'd starving herself with all this work." Draco replied coolly.  
  
Hermione's eyes narrowed as she replied. "I'm not starving myself. I'm simply not hungry."  
  
"I think you are... and I think it's time for you to take a little rest."  
  
"And since when did I make it clear that you could choose what's best for me?" Hermione retorted.  
  
"Since you came in here from the future." Draco replied, obviously not fazed by her spite. "You are in my castle, my lady."  
  
Having nothing to say, Hermione merely muttered something unintelligible as she fumed.  
  
"May I say something?" Draco asked mischievously.  
  
"Go ahead." Hermione said, still fuming.  
  
"There's something about you being angry that makes you fascinating to look at." Draco said, a small smile forming on his lips.  
  
Hermione looked at him in utter disbelief. "And now you're being funny..."  
  
"I'm trying to be funny." Draco offered. "To make you less angry at me."  
  
"Well... whatever it is you're doing." Hermione started, taking a deep breath. "It's working." Then she looked at him in her lack of hope of getting the last word in this conversation and smiled.  
  
"Good." Draco said, now fully smiling at her. Hermione groaned.  
  
"You know, you can get anything you want by just smiling like that." She remarked.  
  
"Remind then, to give you smiles more often..." He said. "Now, will you come and join me for lunch?"  
  
Having no more of her defenses up, Hermione agreed and laughed in spite of herself. Draco took her hand in his and they walked out of the room, all things forgotten.  
  
* * *  
  
"Draco?" Hermione asked a few days later. The room they had been working on was now fully sorted and fixed up. Hermione had used some of the tapestries and appropriated them as a rug (after washing them of course). Draco had uncovered a fireplace and had fixed it up. The room was now being used as a sitting room by both of them. Hermione had even placed her desk on one side, using the room as a study and as a writing area because of the window's breathtaking view of a small meadow, which was covered in white snow.  
  
The place was now brighter and warmer than it had ever been. Torches were placed on the stone wall, and a fire burned merrily in the fireplace. They spent a lot of their time in here now, having more privacy in here than the rooms downstairs.  
  
"Aye?" Draco said, looking up from sharpening a sword he'd uncovered from one of the boxes. It was the sword he'd gained from winning one of the many battles he participated in during his younger days. He'd been in Spain during that time and with the money he'd gotten from warring, he'd had purchased a sword... but then forgot about it. He was sitting on the rug, his legs stretched out and he was leaning on a chair's legs. Hermione was not too far off, as she was sprawled out on her stomach and writing something on a piece of parchment.  
  
"Tell me about your mother." Hermione said, looking up from what she was doing. Draco looked at her in confusion.  
  
"What would you want to know about her?" He asked. Now was the test of his trust in Hermione. She asked a basic question about his family, meaning that she wanted to get to know him a little better. Yes, it was true. Hermione wanted to open him up and know what was really troubling him.  
  
"Anything you want to tell me." Hermione replied. "I've heard from the others how she was beautiful and kind and caring..."  
  
"She was." Draco agreed, thinking about the time during battles when all he thought about was getting back to her. She was all he cared about... ever since the death of his father...  
  
"I was imagining how she looked like." Hermione mused out loud. "Having a name like Narcissa meant that she was beautiful... very beautiful."  
  
"She looked like an angel... at least that's what my father called her." Draco replied. "I guess she did... she was kind and caring and free- spirited. She reminds me of you, Hermione." He blurted out, more shocked by what he said than she was.  
  
"Really?" Hermione asked, smiling at him and pulling herself up into a sitting position.  
  
"Aye. She would have liked you."  
  
Hermione thought about that for a while. "What was it like with her in the castle?"  
  
"She was lively and cheery. She took charge in most things..." Draco recalled wistfully. "I... I somehow took that for granted."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"I did not have the chance to tell her something before she died." Draco said sadly.  
  
Hermione swallowed. "How did she die?"  
  
"In her sleep. I came home from warring and found out that she had died a week before. That's why I became angry with women... because she was ill a long time before she died and the healer couldn't save her."  
  
"Oh... the healer was a woman." Hermione clarified.  
  
"Aye." Draco looked at Hermione and saw the understanding in her eyes. She didn't ask anymore questions after that. "Tell me more about your life in the future." He said, changing the topic.  
  
"I was born into this rich family... but not as rich as you." Hermione said, smiling. "My parents loved each other from the first time they met. I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I had this older brother, Michael who's a doctor. I was a writer."  
  
"I think you're still a writer." Draco said, gesturing to the parchment she had in her hands.  
  
"Oh well... I guess so." Hermione smiled wistfully.  
  
"Do you miss them?" Draco asked, he regretted asking because he didn't want to know the answer. But he felt the need to ask her.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Do you want to go back to your time?" Draco asked, looking at her intently.  
  
Now that was the million-dollar (or pound, in this case) question. Did she want to go back to her time? She thought about it. In her time, she would be back with her parents, being with them until they grew old and loving every minute spent with them. But then, the future also meant Ron.  
  
Ron. She looked at her bare hands and wondered how he was taking the news of her disappearance. She knew that she didn't love him... long before Draco made a move. Long before she even came into Draco's world. But being with Draco and slipping off into his being made it extremely difficult for her to even think about Ron. Sure, she felt the sadness. But that was because she felt sad for him... She was sure that he truly loved her and she refused to reciprocate that kind of love.  
  
Her thoughts drifted to Draco. She was attracted to him the first time she saw him, the first time she talked to him. But did that mean that she loved him? It was too soon for that... But he was warming up to her. He was smiling at her, talking about things he'd rarely discussed with other people, he was making her laugh and smile and making her feel vital to his survival every time she came close to him. His kisses were unlike anything she'd experienced before... and his soft, subtle touches were telling her that he was finally letting someone come close to him, starting to make him live again.  
  
And if that didn't make her body melt, her heart pound, her brain swoon and her soul fly, she didn't know what could. She looked back at him and saw the apprehension in his face. He was frightened of what her answer would be.  
  
"I don't know..." she answered finally. "I would want to make them worry less about me, after all I did disappear into thin air... But... I wouldn't want to leave you."  
  
Draco looked slightly relieved but was still nervous. "You wouldn't want to leave me?" He asked in a soft voice.  
  
"No..." Hermione said, shaking her head for emphasis.  
  
"Why?"  
  
She bit her lip. "Because you've shown me too much for me to give away."  
  
"What have I shown you?" Draco asked.  
  
"Oh nothing but parts of your being... merely parts of your heart." Hermione explained. "Coming from you, that's a huge honor." She said, smiling.  
  
Draco placed the sword back in its sheath and set it aside. He reached out for Hermione and pulled her to him. She smiled up at him, letting herself be cradled in his arms. She rested her head on his chest.  
  
"Thank you." Draco said finally, stroking her long hair. "I would want to tell you more about myself but..."  
  
"Ssh..." Hermione interrupted, looking up at him and placing a finger on his lips. "I know. And you can tell me when you feel that it's time... I mean, I am staying, right?"  
  
"Aye." Draco said, grasping her hand and kissing it lightly. Then, he pulled her closer to him and kissed her on the lips. He tentatively ran his tongue over her lips and she opened her mouth, letting him probe deeper. Her hand was still in his and he was tracing small circles on her palm, making each little circle burn. Her heart was beating wildly, she knew that Draco could feel it against his chest.  
  
She responded to his kiss as well, pushing herself closer to him, relishing the feel of his hand on her lower back, supporting her. She felt the sureness in his fingertips, holding her gently but protectively, almost possessively. She was soon running her hand through his hair, feeling the softness of the blonde locks which were never bound.  
  
After a few moments, the kiss ended when they both needed air. But Draco never let go of her and he didn't intend to. He kissed her forehead and let her sink into his arms. Hermione lay content and happy, being in the arms of the one man she was falling in love with.  
  
She was brought to her senses, thinking about what she'd just admitted to herself. She was falling in love with him... with Draco Malfoy. And it wasn't brought up by his mind-altering kisses or the touches or the words he said at the right time and place. It was brought up by him, letting her into his life and relearning how to live, and possibly relearning how to love. Because of her.  
  
She smiled before drifting off to sweet slumber in his arms... not knowing if he was falling in love as well, but knowing that he was close to getting there.  
  
And from the way Draco held her, the vow he promised himself when he first kissed her, the feeling in his heart as she slept on his chest... he was closer to getting there than Hermione guessed. 


	15. Breaking Through Fears

Author's Note: Wow! Wow! Wow! Thank you for all of your reviews! Don't worry about the umm. more intimate scenes... I'm just tweaking around here and there, looking for the right time and place. Although, it would take a little more time and it is a few chapters away. I'd have to brew the real conflict first. Anyways, thanks again!  
  
Chapter 15: Breaking Through Fear  
  
Hermione was a wreck. It was only days till Draco's birthday and she was still knee-deep in her plans. She'd enlisted the help of Goyle and Kate with keeping Draco in the dark about all of it. Mathilde had promised with the food and such. Hermione had also asked Draco's men to give him something. They had all agreed.  
  
Now it was her time to make him the perfect gift. Great. How would you get a guy a gift when there's no mall or store to get that gift for him?  
  
"Aaah!" Hermione said aloud in her room. She'd been thinking for the past few hours on what to give him. When she went out of her room early this morning, Goyle was busy asking Draco something about what he wanted. Draco gave him a glare and quickly went down to the stables to check on Starshine as the mare was a few weeks away from giving birth.  
  
Hermione looked out of her window and only saw the snow-covered garden of Draco's castle. Of course, she wanted to give him something super special. Something he knew was from her and from her heart... But what? She didn't even get the chance to give him a Christmas present, now what was she going to get for him?  
  
Turning around, she spied the place where her desk used to be. That desk was now in the sitting room, where she did all her writing. She was already two chapters into her story and she was quite proud that she did all that in long hand. Sure, her hands became numb after writing for so many hours and it was quite a nuisance that sometimes her head wrote faster than her hands... but the two chapters of her story were well written and she was definitely proud of that.  
  
Only, she never showed it to anybody. She feared their misunderstanding when they read between the lines. She never even showed it to Draco, for fear that she might be showing him more than she ought to.  
  
It was exactly that fear that made her absolutely refuse the idea of writing a poem or something for him to give on his birthday. It would be the logical gift after all... but that fear simply hindered her. A knock on the door snapped her back to the present.  
  
"Come in." Hermione called. The door opened and Draco went inside. Hermione smiled at the sight of him. His hair was dripping wet from the bath he'd just taken and he looked very tired. He had just come from tending to the animals in the stables.  
  
"Draco..." Hermione greeted, smiling warmly and coming closer to him. "Is there anything I can do for you?"  
  
"Aye, in fact, there is." Draco said, closing the door behind him. Hermione looked at him expectantly as he looked positively adorable as he ran a hand through his wet hair. "You should sit down." Hermione nodded and walked over to the bed and sat down. Draco went to her vanity chair and sat down on it.  
  
"Well? What can I help you with?"  
  
"Well... Emil de Gervais is betrothed to Olivia Haven of England. He has asked for us to come to his wedding." Draco said, looking at Hermione.  
  
"Really?" Hermione exclaimed happily. "When is it?"  
  
"On the 18th of February. We would have to travel a week before that to get to Aquitaine." Draco paused. "And... I just got a message from him, saying that Olivia would like it if you would be a lady-in-waiting. Would you?"  
  
Hermione was shocked. Whatever it was in Medieval France, she was beginning to like it. People who never even met her were making her a part of the best day of their lives. She sat, digesting all the information.  
  
"Hermione?" Draco asked tentatively. She could hear the worry in his voice...  
  
"Yes! Yes!" Hermione exclaimed, jumping from the bed and colliding into Draco's stunned body. She hugged him tightly for a long time before she drew back with a huge smile on her face. Draco smiled as well.  
  
"You still catch me off guard with all your bursts of joy, Hermione." Draco commented, setting her back on her feet.  
  
"I'll give you a warning next time, alright?" Hermione proposed.  
  
"Fair enough." Draco said, standing up and tucking an errant piece of hair behind her ear. "You should go to Rose to have your measurements taken for the gown to be made for you."  
  
Hermione nodded her head vigorously, like a little child. Draco shook his head.  
  
"I should go now, my lady. I have some errands to run." Draco said, giving a slight nod and heading out the door. Hermione then sank back down on the bed.  
  
Then, with a sudden spark of inspiration and a surge of self- confidence. She finally decided to write that poem for Draco. After all, writing was the only thing she had left from her world, it was the only thing she could think of and it was the only thing she had to offer him... for now. She was determined to share it with him.  
  
* * *  
  
On the dawn of Draco's birthday, Hermione was up and ready to go. She knew of his morning routine of waking up at dawn and she was planning something for him just as he woke up. Smiling like mad and making sure that everything was perfect, she opened the door to her room, only to run into Rose who was holding out a platter of food.  
  
"Oh, Rose. Thank you..." Hermione exclaimed but keeping her voice to a whisper. She didn't know if sound traveled faster through stone walls (Physics was never given another thought during her high school days... and she promptly forgot everything she'd learned ever since her stay in this time period) and she wasn't about to find out through Draco's coming down before he should and ruin her plans for his birthday. "But, bring that up in a few minutes, I'll have to prep Lord Draco first." She added. Rose's brow furrowed with her futuristic language and nodded slowly but she paid it no mind. Draco's birthday was more important than that.  
  
Turning away from Rose and doing a half-run towards the tower stairs, she prayed before ascending the stairs to Draco's room. She didn't need any sort of lighting and she was not nervous of slipping and breaking her neck. She was nervous about her plan.  
  
She reached the landing of the stairs and found that the door to Draco's room was locked. Not worrying, she brought out the key she'd gotten from Sir Goyle and inserted it as quiet as she could with shaking hands and turned the lock. After unlocking the door, she quietly eased it open and hoped that it wouldn't squeak or creak. Fortunately, it did not and she was able to step inside without making a noise.  
  
She hoped to find Draco still sleeping or at least still in bed, but then she was surprised to see him looking out the window. After debating on what to do, she quietly made her way to him. She did her best to keep her footfalls as quiet as they could be on the stone floor and the swish of her skirt to be inaudible; she was going to surprise him. Hermione held out her arms in front of her, waiting to pounce and cover his eyes with her hands. She was only about two feet from where he was standing, still walking as slow and as quiet as she could when he spoke up.  
  
"And what do I owe this intrusion, Hermione?" Draco asked in that deep voice that in any other time would've sounded absolutely melodic and sexy, except now it only caused Hermione to jump, let out a surprised yelp and cover her mouth with her hands. Draco smirked as he turned to her and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"How...?" Hermione asked, after getting over the surprise he gave her.  
  
Draco shook his head in amusement, "Hermione, I'm a warrior. What kind of warrior would I be if I didn't know that you were here?"  
  
"You mean you knew I was here, long before I came close to you?" Hermione asked, impressed with his skills.  
  
"Aye, it's important for a warrior to know his surroundings and the people in it. I know the difference between your footfalls and someone else's." Draco explained patiently, giving her a small smile.  
  
"Amazing." Hermione said, for lack of a better word to describe what she thought of him at that instant. She knew him to be precise with the blade and unforgiving in his ministrations, but never did she have a firsthand experience of his observance of people and his environment.  
  
"I will take that as a compliment, my lady." Draco said as Hermione smiled and nodded her head. "So, are you going to answer me on why you're here in my room at dawn?"  
  
"Oh... that's because-" Hermione started to say when she was interrupted with a soft knock on the door. Gathering up her skirt, she half- ran towards the door and opened it. A few words were spoken and Hermione let Rose in, along with the other servants.  
  
Draco watched in awe as they all had trays occupying their hands. Two servants brought up a table and before Draco's very eyes, the table was donned with a dark green tablecloth and platters of food filled the table to overflowing.  
  
Once everything was done, the servants all left him and Hermione. Draco was confused and he was about to ask Hermione why all of this had been done when she grabbed his arm, pulled him towards one of the two chairs and motioned for him to sit. He looked at her skeptically.  
  
"Sit." She commanded, looking at him and narrowing her eyes.  
  
"Why?" Was all Draco could voice out.  
  
"Because you can't eat standing up. Well, at least not eat properly. Anyway, just sit." Hermione ordered and she all but pushed him down to sit.  
  
The rest of the time was a blur to Draco as Hermione was more than accommodating with her helpfulness and cheer. She refilled his glass, she pushed more food into his plate and she talked animatedly for the past hour until Draco could not eat anymore. When he looked at the table, he saw that almost all of the platters were eaten clean.  
  
"Did I really eat that much food?" Draco asked turning to Hermione who ate only a few bites since she was talking through the whole thing.  
  
Hermione looked towards the table and surveyed the empty platters. She smiled at him and nodded her head. "It looks like it."  
  
Draco groaned as he sat back in his chair and laid a hand on his tummy. Hermione laughed at him. "Now, my lord," She said, standing up and pulling him to his feet. (It was no easy task, mind you) "You just go and sit in one of your plush chairs by the fire and relax. I'll get this cleaned up and I'll come back in about half an hour." She said as he sat down.  
  
He looked up at her as if he had no choice and nodded his head. Hermione smiled at him and turned back to the table and began fixing up. She had a pile of dishes in her arms when she headed down the stairway. Draco actually did not pay attention to the bustling of the servants and Hermione as they cleaned up. If he could, he would have slept, but his stubborn attitude to bathe and ready himself for the day did not let him drift off to sleep.  
  
At promptly half an hour later, Hermione entered Draco's bedroom and saw him sitting by the fire and reading a piece of parchment. Hermione hoped against hope as she neared him that she didn't stupidly leave the poem she would give him... but alas, she did and he was reading it. He looked up at her and smiled when he saw the disquiet evident in her face. He motioned for her to sit down next to him and she did.  
  
"Did you write this?" He asked, holding up the paper and she nodded, lowering her gaze to her hands. She did not look up until he placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face up to meet his. "Thank you." He said simply.  
  
Hermione smiled. The paper contained a poem she had written for him. Of course, this was a time when rhyme was most revered by people everywhere... but she had written her poem in free-verse. She hated rhyming. But what was more important was that he liked it.  
  
The poem reads as follows:  
  
'All this time I tried to change you,  
  
To make you more caring and considerate  
  
But in actuality, you changed me.  
  
At first I was scared  
  
Too frightened to show and prove myself  
  
And you happened to bring that out of me  
  
Thank you  
  
You make me feel that I'm important  
  
And that everything is better with me  
  
By your side  
  
I don't have enough knowledge on how to repay you  
  
My actions and emotions speak only of glimpses of what I really feel  
  
I cannot express into words what my heart is prodding me to say  
  
But I try  
  
Thank you  
  
For making my soul lift  
  
And making my mouth smile and laugh every time I see you  
  
Or think of you  
  
This is not enough  
  
But I can't think of anything more  
  
You do that to me...  
  
You make me speechless yet so outspoken  
  
You captivate me yet you say that I fascinate you  
  
You make me hunger for your words, your smiles... yet you hunger for mine  
  
For the man that you are  
  
And for the man you mean to me...  
  
Thank you, Draco Malfoy,  
  
My knight, my warrior, my prince.'  
  
"Is this what you've been writing all this time in the sitting room?" He asked.  
  
"Yes..." and no. Hermione added in her head. She wasn't about to tell Draco that she was writing her book, which was almost becoming like her life story with every sentence that she added.  
  
"You're good. You've got talent." Draco said. Hermione was so overcome with joy that that she hugged him impulsively and kissed him on the cheek, not minding that his hair was still dripping wet from his bath.  
  
"You really like it?" She asked as she drew back and examined his face thoughtfully.  
  
"Aye, I really like it." He replied, smiling. Hermione's face brightened up again and she tried to remember what she was going to do next. Oh, right...  
  
"Come..." She said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up.  
  
"Where are we going?" Draco asked as she led him to the bed... Bed? Draco stiffened.  
  
Hermione turned to him and wondered why Draco had stopped walking. When she saw the confusion and apprehension in his face... she realized.  
  
"Oh, not like that. But do take off that tunic and lie down." Hermione said cheerfully. She let go of his hand but Draco was not moving. "Draco? Take off your tunic and lie down..." She repeated.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why? Because I said so..." Hermione said as she went back to the couch and grabbed something out of the bad she was carrying when she came in. It was a bottle of some sort. When she returned to Draco's side, she found that he was fully dressed.  
  
"Take off your tunic and lie down... I'm going to massage your back." Hermione explained. (Finally!)  
  
Draco thought about it then started to undo the buttons of his shirt. "Hermione,"  
  
"Hmmm?" She replied absentmindedly, as she set down the bottle on the bed and started rolling up the sleeves of her dress.  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
"Huh?" Hermione said as she looked up at him. She had a hard time trying to remember what he asked and trying to remember what she meaning to do. Draco had taken off his tunic and despite the scars... he was looking really good. Finally, Hermione snapped back and remembered. "Oh... didn't I tell you?"  
  
"Tell me what?" Draco asked, oblivious to how she was reacting at the sight of his bare upper body.  
  
"I told you... Oh wait..." Hermione recalled. "Oh right, I didn't."  
  
"Tell me what?"  
  
"Oh right... Happy Birthday!!" She exclaimed all of a sudden then laughed and smiled at him.  
  
Draco was so surprised and so amused that he gave a half-laugh.  
  
"You laughed!" Hermione exclaimed happily.  
  
Draco could only nod his head. Hermione smiled at him.  
  
"Now, lie down..." She instructed and he did just that. "On your stomach, Draco." She said and he rolled over and stretched out on the bed. She positioned herself on one side on his body, sitting on the bed. Hermione opened the bottle of oil and crushed flower petals she'd made long before and poured some on her hands. Draco jumped slightly when her hands made contact with his back.  
  
"I smell flowers." Draco commented after sniffing.  
  
"Yes, you do." Hermione said as she continued to rub his back.  
  
"If you leave me smelling like flowers... I'll see you'll regret it." Draco warned as he looked over on one side and glared at her.  
  
Hermione momentarily stopped rubbing and looked at him with a playful smile of her lips. "Big threat, Lord Malfoy." She said and continued her massage. "Pretend that I was wearing the stuff and you got it over yourself when you spent the whole morning bedding me."  
  
"Would you want to?" Draco asked, mocking her.  
  
Hermione laughed as Draco turned back to enjoying the whole ordeal. Draco was big man and he had thick muscles that would have been a challenge even for a practiced masseuse. Hermione only stopped when he hands started to cramp.  
  
"All done." She said cheerfully, patting Draco on the head.  
  
"I can't get up." Draco replied. Hermione laughed at him and stretched out next to him, propping her head on her hand.  
  
"There's more food downstairs..." Hermione said and almost immediately, Draco got up. She laughed before getting off the bed and waiting for him to don his tunic. Once he was done, he took her hand and they went down.  
  
* * *  
  
All in all, the day was fabulous, if Hermione could say so herself. The food was overflowing on the table and Goyle had enlisted some entertainers to give life to their party. Hermione never left Draco's side, sometimes feeding him with more food until he couldn't eat anymore.  
  
The men, as Hermione had asked them to, gave Draco a huge gift. It was a shield.  
  
Draco stared at it for a few moments before he took it and examined it closely. The shield bore his emblem, a dragon. The shield itself was so heavy as Hermione tried to lift it but couldn't. But Draco carried it with ease.  
  
What he only noticed of the shield as the party was coming to an end was a small butterfly behind the dragon. It was so small that you needed to stare at it closely to see the outline of a butterfly, if you noticed it at all. Draco looked at Hermione who was busy chatting with Kate and realized... It seemed that his men knew him better than he did. He smiled before setting the shield down, he would take that up later, he had more important things to do.  
  
After politely excusing Hermione from the talk she and Kate were engaged in, saying that she had a tiring day and needed to get to bed, Draco escorted Hermione to her room. Hermione at first protested that she wasn't at all tired, but one warning look from Draco and she agreed that she was feeling slightly tired.  
  
When they reached the door to her room, Draco turned her to face him.  
  
"Thank you." He said simply before bending down and kissing her on the lips. Hermione responded immediately, pulling herself close to him and deepening the kiss.  
  
It was a long time before they pulled away, both breathless and Hermione was smiling.  
  
"I've wanted to do that ever since you came in my room." Draco confessed.  
  
Hermione smiled and blushed. "Well, I'm glad you did."  
  
"Good night, Hermione." Draco said as she opened the door to her room.  
  
"Good night, Draco... and happy birthday."  
  
Draco went back down to do a bit of talking with Goyle as to how his day had been. It had been a long time since he'd talked with his best friend. 


	16. A Journey of Sorts

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! For the query on Hermione being a lady-in-waiting, that's only for Olivia's wedding. I'm glad you liked the whole birthday thing, I had quite a hard time thinking of that chapter, (that's because I can't wait for the actual plot and the whole intimate experience between Hermione and Draco to begin) but it's all good right now and I hope that you'll love this chapter! I'm sorry I was a little late in updating; I needed a bit of inspiration. Anyways, the plot thickens right here!  
  
Chapter 16: A Journey of Sorts  
  
"Are you feeling well?" Draco asked Hermione in a very concerned manner.  
  
Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. She turned to Draco and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine." Draco nodded and spurred Dusk to the head of the group. He had turned back a few yards to where Hermione was riding her horse, a grey mare, because of his fear that she was not standing to the weather very well.  
  
It was four days before the Emil's wedding and they were halfway to their destination. They left early morning yesterday and only traveled when the snow would fall intermittently. There had been a blizzard last night, but everything was fine in the camp Draco and his men had set up just before twilight yesterday. All in all, the group was consisted of Draco, Goyle, Hermione, Kate and twenty other men from Draco's personal guard. A wagon was also present for their belongings and supplies.  
  
The journey towards Aquitaine was roughly a two-day trip on horseback, depending on how fast you were going. At the rate they were in, it was lucky they would get there by mid-afternoon the following day. But, Draco's guard had a tracker who would scout out the best possible route to Aquitaine. Hermione didn't mind the delay, as long as she was out and she could see the beauty of the countryside.  
  
Oh sure, all you could see for miles on each side was snow and lots of it, but Hermione was too deep in her daydreams to care about what she'd see or didn't see. The ride was awesome, if she could say so herself. The company was most certainly entertaining and pleasant. Everything was going well.  
  
She looked towards the front of the group and saw Draco. He wore chain mail under his heavy woolen cloak, no doubt he was wary of the forests and the places they were passing, and his hair was bound. His sword was at his side and he kept looking in all directions every now and then.  
  
Kate was by Hermione's side, doing quite well on a stallion she'd picked out herself from the range of horses the men showed to them. Hermione noticed that she seemed very at home in these conditions; with the snow and riding on horseback. No wonder she and Olivia got along so well, Hermione thought after recalling a previous conversation with Kate that described Olivia as free-spirited and adventurous.  
  
Goyle was directly behind Draco, but usually, he would stay back and humor the two girls until they both begged him to get away.  
  
And what was Hermione doing when she was not daydreaming?  
  
Oh, nothing really. Just simply staring at Draco's back and loving every time he would go to her and ask her if she was feeling well. Sweet of him, really. The sun was getting low on the horizon, Hermione noticed, as the group trudged on. They would have to spend another night in camp.  
  
Suddenly, a cry was heard then the whine of a horse. Hermione looked the left and saw that a horse was galloping away. She was about to cry out at the scene when Draco's call to stop was heard and everyone immediately halted. The instant Draco called the group to stop, about ten of the twenty men guarded Hermione and Kate, protecting the two girls in a circle and facing outwards with their swords drawn. Five of the remaining ten got off their horses and began to go deep into the forests in different directions.  
  
Draco and Goyle both got off their horses and started walking towards the sound that was heard a while ago. Draco was obviously in a very bad mood, and his purposeful stride told it to be so. A few seconds after, a man of a tall stature and dark hair appeared from the forests in a very grim disposition. Hermione recognized him to be Paul Godwin, Draco's tracker and lookout.  
  
"We were being followed, my lord." Paul said, his voice hard and anger laced through it.  
  
"By whom?" Draco asked, his hands clenching into fists.  
  
"I do not know sir, but if I may guess, it was Durant's spy."  
  
Draco swore and Hermione had to look down at what he just said. Then, she heard more words from Draco.  
  
"Bring the bastard to me."  
  
Paul nodded and quickly went back into the forest. When he came back, Hermione had gasp at the sight. A man with light brown hair and a slightly small frame was brought before Draco's feet. Buried into his left side, just half an inch below the heart, was an arrow with the feathers of it painted a dark green. This arrow was no doubt from Draco's army. The man was not dead... yet. But he was breathing heavily and on the brink of it.  
  
Draco merely looked at the man whose life he had in his hands. The arrow's shot was precise. Paul was trained, when affronted with a possible spy or attacker, to shoot the arrow just below the heart. This was so they could investigate and their actions would start from there.  
  
"He bears the emblem of Durant, Draco." Goyle said solemnly. "See the phoenix and the sword on his cloak."  
  
Draco nodded. For what must have been the longest time, he stared at the emblem of the enemy whom he had yet to meet. But Draco had satisfaction in wasting all the known and remaining members of his enemy's clan. He still had to face his most formidable foe.  
  
The man broke the silence by giving one last gasp then falling limp. Paul checked the man's pulse and affirmed all suspicions. "He's dead." Paul stated.  
  
Draco thought for a moment before turning back to the group who was waiting patiently for what their lord had to say.  
  
"Where are the others?" Draco asked, referring to the five men who had gone into the forest.  
  
"Out searching, my lord." One replied.  
  
"Call them." Was Draco's answer and almost immediately, a loud whistle was emitted and after a minute or so, the five came back. They were breathing heavily, but no blood was stained on their hands or cloaks. Amazingly, the snow had stopped just before the interruption. Once they were all there, Draco began his instructions.  
  
"Five men on each side of the road, ten to fifteen yards apart." Draco began. "You will serve as the lookout for any possible ambushes and attacks. If you see anything that looks threatening, shoot it." The men nodded and Draco continued on. "We will ride hard into the night. I want to reach Aquitaine by dawn."  
  
Then, Draco turned to Hermione who was looking frightened and shocked over the turn of events. "Hermione," He said and walked over to her.  
  
"Yes?" She replied in a small voice.  
  
"You will ride with me." He said simply. And he then proceeded to lift her off her horse and set her on the ground without so much as a warning. Hermione looked up and saw the harshness now evident in Draco's face. Apparently, this Durant guy had something against him. A quick whistle from him and Dusk came trotting to his master. Draco hoisted Hermione up unto the horse and got on as well, with her being in the front.  
  
"Kate, you will ride with Goyle." Draco said and Goyle carefully got Kate off her horse and unto his.  
  
After ordering the men to secure the other two horses and when everything was in order, (which all took about a total of two minutes, by Hermione's calculation.) Draco spurred his horse and soon, they were riding at quite a speed from what Hermione was used to.  
  
Draco had one arm around her waist, securing her. They were going so fast that Hermione had to clutch at his hand to keep from falling off. She had not ridden astride. She leaned into him, feeling more secure that she was feeling him behind her.  
  
"Am I going too fast?" Draco murmured in her ear.  
  
"Yes... but I'm safe." Hermione replied, looking over her shoulder at him. He looked at her briefly before turning back to watch the road.  
  
After a few minutes of feeling the ground every now and then and almost hearing Draco's steady breathing and heartbeat, Hermione fell asleep in his arms.  
  
* * *  
  
They did reach Aquitaine before dawn. When they reached Emil's castle, Hermione was still half-asleep. Emil's mother, who was there, of course, quickly sent them to their respective rooms for a few hours of sleep.  
  
When Hermione finally woke, a handmaiden was there, already with her breakfast and a few of her clothes. Once she had eaten and dressed, the handmaiden went off, telling Hermione to stay in her room. Hermione had taken the time to notice the whole room. It was very much like her own room back at Draco's home, but the window was facing the inner bailey and Hermione chose not to watch as the men down below were training.  
  
The door opened and Hermione looked up from the armoire's moldings she was checking out. There stood a woman about a couple of inches shorter with long copper waves that fell down her back. Her eyes were a sort of violet and she had rosy white skin. Hermione instantly guessed her to be Olivia Haven, Emil's betrothed.  
  
"Good morning, Hermione." The woman greeted, smiling at her. "I'm Olivia Haven."  
  
"Good morning, Olivia." Hermione greeted as well, going up to her and giving her new friend a quick hug. When Hermione pulled back, Olivia was certainly not expecting that kind of response from her. Hermione laughed. "No need to be so shocked, Olivia. You are my new friend... and I was looking for a way to express my gratitude for making me a lady-in-waiting for your wedding."  
  
Olivia laughed. "I can now see why Emil was talking about you so much." She said.  
  
"Why is that?" Hermione asked, perplexed.  
  
"Because you make others laugh without trying. And you have the strangest ways of doing things, as he told me." Olivia replied.  
  
"Oh... I guess that's pretty much correct." Hermione said. "Please, come and sit... and talk. I know you and I have a lot to talk about."  
  
Olivia laughed again as they both sat down on the bed.  
  
"Now I know the reason why Lord Draco is acting the way he is." Olivia said, shaking her head.  
  
"How does he act?" Hermione asked.  
  
"Emil told me about Draco before. He said that Draco used to be harsh and unrelenting. That he never smiled or laughed or showed any other emotion than anger." Olivia explained. "I was scared of him when Emil said that. I was half-hoping that Emil wouldn't invite him to the wedding. I've also heard a lot of stories about him."  
  
"What kind of stories?"  
  
"Oh, stories that are too ghastly for me to say now. Surely you've heard about them."  
  
"No, I haven't." Hermione replied, feeling her chest constrict.  
  
"I am sorry, I have disturbed you." Olivia said.  
  
"No. Go on. I want to know the rest." Hermione said, smiling.  
  
"Well, believe me, it was quite a shock when Emil came home after Christmas. He told me that Draco had changed... and you were the cause of it, Hermione." Olivia said, smiling. "I met Draco a while ago and I couldn't believe that this man had so much hate inside of him. He has lost some of it now, I can tell... and it's because of you."  
  
Hermione had covered her mouth with her hand, too stunned to speak. So Olivia continued.  
  
"That's why I wanted you to be a lady-in-waiting even though I have not met you. You were responsible for Draco's happiness... and Emil was happy because his friend was happy."  
  
"I... I had no idea that Emil told you about that..." Hermione said.  
  
"Well he has... and I am glad to finally meet you and for you to be my new friend." Olivia said. Hermione laughed and they hugged each other again.  
  
When they pulled away from each other, they both had ear-to-ear grins on their faces. Soon, they were talking animatedly for some time before a servant came to call them for supper. Hermione did not know that she had slept until noon.  
  
For the next two days before the wedding, Hermione and Olivia were inseparable. They would get into fights in the snow with Kate and have girl- talks all through the day. When night came, they would go into Emil's sitting room and talk with the three men.  
  
Hermione met Lady Robyn de Gervais, Emil's mother and found her to be just like Emil and Kate. She was witty and funny and Hermione wanted to be like her when she reached Lady Robyn's age.  
  
During those talks in Emil's sitting room, Hermione would lay back as Draco stroked her hair and give little, unnoticed kisses. Hermione was enjoying every minute of it. But soon, the wedding day came.  
  
* * *  
  
The bride wore a gown of satin gold. And she looked more beautiful than ever.  
  
The groom wore something Hermione did not have a chance to ask what it was, but found that it was of a deep blood red. Gold trimmed Emil's cape and he looked positively overjoyed on his wedding day.  
  
Hermione had a gown of rich green velvet. She watched in joy as the two made their vows in front of the priest and so many people. She did not know that they had so many relatives and friends. Draco had worn something similar to what Emil wore but this was of grayish black.  
  
After the wedding came the celebration full of dancing and singing and merrymaking. Hermione had sat with the newlyweds, Draco, Goyle and Kate. She was having so much fun that she did not realize that she had caught the eye of a gallant knight who chose to stay away from actual celebration and contented himself to watch her from the back.  
  
It was when Hermione broke away from the group to go and use the garderobe (bathroom) that he pursued.  
  
Hermione was coming back from the garderobe when she bumped into a tall man clothed in blue.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry, I did not see you." Hermione said, her hand over her heart.  
  
"Quite the contrary, I should be the one apologizing." He said as he looked at her. He had short light brown hair and dazzling hazel eyes. He was handsome. And he continued, "May I ask your name, fair lady?"  
  
Hermione laughed a little then smiled at him. "Lady Hermione, kind sir. And you are?"  
  
"Sir William of England, at your service." He said, giving her a bow.  
  
"It's very nice to meet you, Sir William." Hermione said.  
  
"Ah, a pleasure as well to meet you, Lady Hermione. Pray, are you related to the couple?" William asked.  
  
"Well, I am to Lord Emil's cousin."  
  
"And who is this cousin?"  
  
"Lord Draco Malfoy." Hermione said, smiling. William reeled for a moment before regaining composure.  
  
"You are married to Lord Draco Malfoy?" William asked pleasantly.  
  
"Oh no, sir..." Hermione said.  
  
William said nothing, but continued with the pleasant expression on his face.  
  
"Well, sir, if you would permit me. I need to get back to the others." Hermione said.  
  
"Of course," William said, taking her hand and kissing it lightly. Hermione smiled.  
  
"Good bye, sir." Hermione called out as she went back to the table.  
  
William watched as she sat next to a man with long blonde hair and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. William guessed the man to be Lord Draco Malfoy.  
  
He turned away rather quickly, leaving them be. 


	17. The Beginning

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! I love getting them! They really make my day! I am kind of sick right now, but all your reviews make me forget that I am. Don't worry about me, though, I am still writing after all. I hope this chapter would evoke some emotions in all of you. I know it has with me! The new chapter is here, I hope you all enjoy it. I had a lot of fun writing it! Just a quick reminder, do not jump to conclusions just yet. The story is still unfolding. Read on!  
  
Chapter 17: The Beginning  
  
Some thirty-two years back, England...  
  
"I will not marry him!" exclaimed a very angry Narcissa de Gervais to her mother. The beautiful girl of only nineteen years of age was currently with her arms crossed over her chest and with a very determined look on her face.  
  
"You will, Narcissa. Your father has decreed it to be so!" Her mother, Alessandra, said.  
  
"Mother, please." Narcissa argued as she threw her hands up in the air. "I am sure father declared this wedding with him being drunk again! And I believe that Father has gone mad!"  
  
"He has not. I believe that he was making the best choice for you."  
  
"The best choice for me?" Narcissa echoed, incredulous. "Mother, have you even seen him? He's ghastly and gruesome! I will not marry him!"  
  
"You will!" Her mother argued.  
  
"I won't! I am only of nineteen years of age-"  
  
"It is but the proper age to marry."  
  
"Not to a man ten years older! And the Lord knows how many bastards he has!"  
  
"Narcissa!"  
  
"Well, it's true, Mother."  
  
Alessandra pressed her lips together. "You father has decreed it to be so, Narcissa. You cannot sway your father's decisions."  
  
"Oh I know that, Mother." Narcissa said, toning down her voice. "But did he have to decree it to that man?"  
  
"Yes, my daughter."  
  
Narcissa groaned. "I cannot believe this... just today..." Narcissa said helplessly, sitting down on her bed and quietly crying.  
  
Today, as it had gone, was tragic and tumultuous. But the real story had started a few weeks before this particular day, with Lord Geoffrey de Gervais, making the worst mistake of his life. He had stupidly made a bet whilst he was drunk... and it all went down into this situation.  
  
Lord Geoffrey had placed his family's wealth on the betting table... and he had lost. To Lord Madigan Durant.  
  
When Lord Geoffrey came home, he did not tell this news to everyone; only to his wife, Alessandra. They had talked about it, fought about it and cursed each other about it. But Lord Madigan was waiting for his treasure... or at least something valuable like it.  
  
Lord Geoffrey's answer, to spare his family from poverty, was to sell his oldest daughter, Narcissa to Madigan in a form of a marriage.  
  
Lord Madigan was unsure at first, but one glance at Narcissa, and he gladly accepted the offer.  
  
After all, Narcissa was very much a beautiful woman.  
  
In actuality, it was only today, two weeks after the sealing of the deal, that Narcissa came to know about the marriage. She was devastated and hurt and angry.  
  
Madigan was known throughout the land to be a fierce and young lord. He could kill like no other, and have no remorse for it. People feared him, yet they could not elude his wealth and his heritage. He had a frightening face and was known to ravish poor young maidens when he felt like it. Hence, he had many bastards all throughout the land. The mothers of his bastards were in hiding, afraid of the shame and the exploitation. But Narcissa knew of someone personally who had gone through Madigan's sins.  
  
It was from her handmaiden, Rowena Kinley, that she came to know about Madigan. Rowena had been raped two years back, when she was just thirteen, by Madigan himself when he found her sleeping under a tree after doing her chores. She had not told anyone, only her mistress.  
  
She had killed the baby when it was still in her womb. But her closeness to Narcissa was the only thing that kept her going through life everyday. From that day, Narcissa had been scarred by Madigan even though it was not her in Rowena's place.  
  
Apart from Madigan's sins and Madigan himself, there was also another more important reason why Narcissa did not want to proceed with this marriage.  
  
It was because of Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Narcissa had met Lucius only a couple of years ago. She had been riding her horse in the woods nearby her home when she saw him sitting below a shady tree, badly hurt and wounded. Immediately, she got off her horse and went to him. When Narcissa looked into the steely blue depths of his eyes, she was in love.  
  
She helped him up and they proceeded to the castle where she tended him. As it turns out, Lucius had been in a fight and was resting at the foot of a tree.  
  
When Narcissa learned more about him, she didn't know whether to be excited or afraid. Lucius was a knight without a lord. He was cast off when his lord found out that Lucius was a better knight that he would ever be. Lucius soon set out and came across a young man who was looking for a fight, so naturally, he obliged.  
  
Narcissa was so captivated by him that she didn't care about his past life. She was more than eager to wish to spend her life with him.  
  
Lucius, on the other hand, first thought of Narcissa as a child. Being four years older than her, he didn't expect that he would fall in love with her innocence and beauty. But the more time they spent together, the more he wanted her... and not only want in the carnal sense. He wanted to be with her for the rest of his life.  
  
No one else knew of their meetings and their love. But Narcissa had given her heart, mind and soul to him long before he asked her for it.  
  
And now, all was going to be lost... because Narcissa would be married to Madigan.  
  
"Mother," Narcissa called out softly, wiping the tears from her eyes.  
  
"Yes, child?" Alessandra replied, looking toward her daughter and for the millionth time wished that there would be something better in store for her other than the marriage.  
  
"When did Father set the wedding?" Narcissa asked, praying that it would be a month, no, two months from now. Enough time for her to break things with Lucius and prepare herself for a life of misery.  
  
"The day after tomorrow." Was all her mother could say before tears welled up in both their eyes and they began to cry.  
  
* * *  
  
The next day, Narcissa went to the forest to fulfill the promise of meeting Lucius there. The last time they were together, he told her that he had a surprise for her. He was currently residing in a small cabin, a mile away from the woods; their woods.  
  
She had cried all night and all morning until she thought that she could not waste anymore tears. More tears would be shed on her wedding day, she needed to save them. Her wedding day was tomorrow.  
  
With a heavy heart, she walked through the woods. Only the crunching of the dirt and leaves below her feet was heard as she made her way to the tree where she found Lucius; their tree. She didn't look up, only focusing on the ground as she walked. She must've walked through this path a thousand times, because she knew where she was going without looking.  
  
Then she stopped and looked up. Lucius was there, leaning on their tree, waiting for her. He was facing the opposite direction. His short blonde hair was being blown ever so subtly by the breeze and Narcissa felt the urge to run away and leave him; he never had to know about this.  
  
But that would mean betraying him and herself as well. That would mean betraying their love that held strong for almost two years. She didn't want that to happen. And so, she forced the words out of her mouth.  
  
"Lucius." She said, almost in a whisper, fighting back the tears that were beginning to fall. He turned and started to smile when he saw her... but his smile stopped short.  
  
"Narcissa..." He said as he walked towards her and held her. Narcissa started to cry in his embrace. Lucius waited a few moments before speaking. "Why are you crying? Have I done something wrong?"  
  
"No..." She answered in a small voice. "It is I who would be doing you wrong, not you."  
  
"I don't understand, Narcissa." Lucius said.  
  
She pulled away from his embrace and tried to look at him, but couldn't. Taking a few deep breaths, she regained composure and started to explain. "I... We..." she suppressed a sob. "You have to... leave, Lucius."  
  
"What?" Lucius asked, looking at Narcissa as she finally looked up at him.  
  
"We... can't continue with... this." She struggled to keep her voice even. "I... can't continue... with this."  
  
"What? Why, Narcissa? Is it your father? Has he found out about us?"  
  
"No... our secret is safe. But..."  
  
"But?"  
  
"You have to go Lucius... and find someone else." Narcissa said, the tears flowing, unchecked. "I'm not the... one for... you. Go..."  
  
"What are you saying, Narcissa? You know it that we are meant to be together..." Lucius said, perplexed and confused.  
  
"Just go, Lucius... Go." She started to walk away but Lucius quickly grabbed her and forced her to look into his eyes. He saw longing and love in them, though she was trying to keep them masked.  
  
"No... not until you tell me why you have suddenly decided this." Lucius said, his voice hard.  
  
Narcissa's eye welled up with tears, but she did not speak. Lucius shook her and asked her again.  
  
"Why have you decided this, Narcissa?"  
  
"You will hate me... and you will hate everything else if I told you."  
  
"Damn it, Narcissa, tell me and I'll decide whether to hate or not. But just tell me!" He roared.  
  
"I am to be married tomorrow." Narcissa blurted out. Lucius' eyes widened and he released her; too fast and she stumbled back. She rubbed her arms where Lucius had gripped her and leaned on a tree trunk. She cried as well.  
  
Lucius began to pace the forest floor, thinking on what could have happened to make her want to marry tomorrow... and to whom?  
  
"To whom?" He asked after a few minutes of being silent. He had stopped pacing the floor and had stopped just in front of her.  
  
"To Madigan Durant." Narcissa said.  
  
"That bastard!?!" Lucius roared.  
  
Narcissa broke. She fell to her knees and sobbed. "It was not my choice, Lucius. I did not want this to happen."  
  
"Then how-"  
  
"My father." Narcissa said, her voice rising. "My father made an agreement with him. My father sold me to him!"  
  
Lucius was silent for a moment. He watched as his love continued to weep uncontrollably but he was too stunned to do anything. How could a father sell his daughter to that man?! He thought as he knelt down on the ground and held her in his arms.  
  
"Sssh, Narcissa..." He said comfortingly. "I'm sorry for being like that..."  
  
"No... I'm sorry, Lucius..." She said.  
  
"When did your father tell you about this wedding?" He asked. He was afraid that she had kept this all along, deceiving him that she would be with him when she was going to be married tomorrow.  
  
"He told me... yesterday."  
  
Yesterday?! Lucius' mind screamed. "Yesterday?" He asked helplessly.  
  
"Yes." Was Narcissa's answer.  
  
His arms tightened around her, as a plan began to formulate in his head. He would not lose her, she was his. He would not lose her, marriage or no. Father or no. He would not lose her!  
  
"Narcissa, we have to get away from here." He said, pulling back to look at her.  
  
She was stunned. "W-what?" She stammered.  
  
"We will leave. Today. Right now, if you want to." Lucius said.  
  
"No... I cannot leave... what about my family?"  
  
"Your family sold you to a bastard, Narcissa. Why would you want to stay and see how life with a bastard is like?"  
  
"But... my father will kill me! He will kill you!" Narcissa said.  
  
"He won't. Not if we leave... He cannot kill us if he cannot find us!" Lucius reasoned.  
  
"But... how?"  
  
"Go back to the castle, and pack some clothing and food while I get a horse. I will wait for you below your bedroom window tonight. Tie up all your sheets and make a rope out of them, then anchor it to something sturdy and heavy. I will help you get down from your room."  
  
"But..."  
  
"But what? This is our chance, Narcissa. We will go to some place where no one will recognize us..." Lucius said. There was something about the way he said it, the way he instructed her, that was so determined that Narcissa nodded her head in agreement.  
  
Lucius smiled as Narcissa did so too. After getting up from their position on the floor, Lucius made a few more instructions on how she would act when faced with her family and she nodded, intending to follow every word he told her.  
  
Before she left though, Lucius gave her a quick kiss on the lips, telling her to be careful and not to be too obvious. She nodded and quickly made her way back to the castle. She would leave it forever... and she was looking forward to it.  
  
Four hours later, Narcissa was a bundle of nerves. She had done exactly what Lucius had told her, all she had to do was wait for him. She was pacing the floor, but stopped. As if bearing some omen, a knock sounded on her door and it opened. Narcissa had to steel herself not to cry out. It was Lord Madigan Durant and he was looking more menacing than ever.  
  
"M-my Lord Madigan." Narcissa said, bowing her head and telling her hands to stop shaking.  
  
"Now, Narcissa, that is no way to greet your soon-to-be-husband." Madigan said snidely. "Call me Madigan, Narcissa. After all, we are to be wed tomorrow."  
  
Narcissa certainly didn't need the insufferable son of a bitch to remind her of her wedding, and so, she just smiled politely and nodded her head. "Yes... Madigan."  
  
"I like the way you say my name, my dear." Madigan said, taking a few steps closer and she had to fight the urge to jump off her window. "It has sort of sweetness to it that only you can say..."  
  
"Thank you, Madigan." She replied. He was circling her, as if she were his prey. She followed him with her eyes, shaking so much she thought she would break. Then suddenly, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. Narcissa gasped and looked at him with wide eyes.  
  
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, smiling down at her in his malicious way. Narcissa was struggling.  
  
"There is no need to struggle, my sweet. You would be in the same position tomorrow evening..." He paused, looking down at her gown that had quite a low neckline. "And probably with fewer clothes."  
  
Narcissa said nothing. Then, Madigan kissed her. Long and hard and she struggled against his mouth. After what seemed to be eternity, he pulled away and smiled at her and released her. He walked to the door and opened it. Turning to her, he gave her one last evil smile then left, slamming the door behind him.  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief and tried to ignore the disgusting feeling at the pit of her stomach when he laid his lips on hers.  
  
A faint call of her name snapped her out of it and she rushed toward the window. She looked out and sure enough, Lucius was down there, looking up at her. Smiling brightly, she signaled him to wait as she got out the tied sheets and securely wrapped one end of it on one foot of her bed. Then she threw the other end out the window, along with a bag where she'd placed a few of her clothes and some food.  
  
When she looked back out, Lucius was telling her to scale the wall using the bed sheets. He told her that if she fell, he had lain out a 'cushion' for her to fall on. If she did fall, that is. She nodded.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Narcissa hoisted herself on the window sill and began her descent down the sheets. It took quite a few minutes but soon, Lucius had her in his arms and was saving his praise for her for later. The quickly got her belongings and were soon on the horse.  
  
The ride out the gates proved to be tricky; they had to wait until every guard was not looking before racing out of the open portcullis. Lucius had gotten a horse without horseshoes, making each hoof beat almost noiselessly. They were a good hour away from the castle when the household learned of their escape.  
  
Suffice it to say, Lord Geoffrey was outraged and ordered every single men on his troop to search for his daughter. Madigan had led the search, but it was fruitless. The couple was halfway to Scotland by the time the search began. When Lady Alessandra asked the servants and household of any lead and anyone who might be accountable to the abduction of her daughter, only one name was heard: Lucius Malfoy.  
  
Madigan Durant cursed that day and Lucius Malfoy as well. He vowed to himself that there would be a time when he would have his revenge and Narcissa.  
  
* * *  
  
Fifteen years later...  
  
"My Lord, your son has been wreaking havoc on my garden again..."  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"With his mother, probably hiding from me... or you, my Lord."  
  
"That may be so." Lucius said, smiling as he walked towards the castle; his castle. He had been seeing to the animals in his stables when he heard an exasperated yell from his gardener, Old Man Collie. When he rushed over, he saw that the flowers had been picked from their bushes. It was no question on who was to point for the deed.  
  
Lucius looked around his castle. He searched every room until he stopped at the door to Narcissa's parlor. Without knocking, he opened the door and sure enough, his thirteen year old son was sitting on one of the chairs, a hasty bouquet of flowers in a vase on top of his mother's writing desk. He was reading a bit of parchment.  
  
"Draco." Lucius called.  
  
The boy looked up and grinned. "Yes, Father?"  
  
"What is this with you wreaking havoc on Old Man's garden?"  
  
"I wanted to give Mother something special."  
  
Lucius considered his son for a while. They both had the same hair color and features. The only thing different was his son's eyes, which were a mix of gray and blue... something like him and Narcissa. Draco looked at him uneasily, expecting to be punished. Then Lucius smiled, and Draco did so as well. Just at that moment, Narcissa came in.  
  
"Mother!" Draco exclaimed, rushing over and giving her a hug. Narcissa laughed, even though her son was growing up to be quite the fine young man, the sight of her turned him into a little boy.  
  
"I've heard about your misdeed, Draco." Narcissa said, after pulling away and fixing his disheveled hair.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mother." Draco said solemnly. Narcissa laughed and kissed both his cheeks.  
  
"I know you meant well..." Narcissa replied and looked toward Lucius and gave him a smile.  
  
The Malfoy family had resided in the far regions of Scotland, where no one knew of their background. Lucius had accumulated some money after fighting for a nearby Lord. After a year from Narcissa and Lucius' escape, they had their own home which over time, became the Malfoy castle.  
  
They also had a son, by the name of Draco. Draco was an inquisitive young boy who always wanted to learn. He was well-trained with the sword, of course taught to him by his father, only at the age of thirteen. His mother taught him the arts: singing and painting, for she grabbed hold of his talent for those things early on.  
  
"What brings you here, Lucius?" Narcissa asked as she sat down on her desk chair and Draco resumed his reading.  
  
"Well, Draco was my first reason for coming here... but then, come to think of it, the reason has become you."  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes," Lucius answered as he went over to her side and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.  
  
"I love you." Narcissa said, smiling.  
  
"I know, and I, you." Lucius said, leaning over to give her another kiss. But then, a hurried knock was heard on the door. Furrowing his brow and straightening up, he walked over to the door and opened it. His captain, Sir John O'Hara, was out of breath and standing there.  
  
"My Lord, pardon me for intruding... But we are under attack." Sir John said.  
  
"By whom?" Lucius asked.  
  
"Your tracker has spotted them, not five hundred yards away. They carry the emblem of a phoenix."  
  
Lucius looked at Narcissa. Shock and fear was evident on her face. "Durant." They both said together. Lucius turned back to John and instructed him to round up all the men and have a stronghold over their keep. Sir John quickly went away.  
  
"Lucius?" Narcissa asked, going over to him and searching his face for some sign that everything was alright. She started to cry when she saw the uncertainty in his features.  
  
"Blankets, clothes, food." Lucius said. "Take two horses with you." Narcissa nodded and cried even more. She then reached up and kissed him. Lucius broke the kiss a little while later. "Go, Draco can handle you."  
  
Narcissa rushed away, still crying.  
  
"Father?" Draco asked, walking over to Lucius.  
  
"Draco. Whatever happens, go with your mother. Get far away from here. You have the maps?"  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
"And your sword?"  
  
Draco nodded again.  
  
"Good. I'm leaving her in your hands. If I manage to survive this, I will track you down... If not..." Lucius faltered in his words. "Take care of her."  
  
"Father..." Draco was at a loss for words.  
  
"Be brave, Draco. I'll always be with you, remember that. Never show weakness and remember what I taught you." Lucius said, his eyes were brimming with tears but he refused to cry. "Go."  
  
"Yes, Father." Draco said determinedly and ran towards the direction of his room to get the maps of England, Scotland, Ireland and France. As well as to get his sword.  
  
Lucius looked after his son, before turning and walking towards his enemy. Madigan might have his revenge, but he will never have Narcissa or Draco.  
  
When Madigan's sword went through Lucius' heart, Draco heard the final words of his father as he screamed them.  
  
"You have not killed me, Madigan Durant! You can never kill my spirit!"  
  
And Lucius dropped dead...  
  
The sun was setting. The huge fiery ball, going down on the horizon and the sky was streaked with red and orange and yellow. Draco looked at the setting sun one last time before spurring his horse into a gallop. It was then that he made a vow to himself. 


	18. A Prelude

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! It's really nice getting them, so thank you, thank you, thank you! Thank you to those who wished for me to get better... and I did, I'm really happy to say! This chapter is quite short, mainly because I wanted all the actualities of the story to be in the next one. Well anyway, I hope you like it... and what's to follow, of course! Onwards!  
  
Chapter 18: A Prelude  
  
He would kill me if he knew that I knew! Hermione chided herself harshly during a damp, cold night while she was alone in her room. It had been a month after Emil and Olivia's wedding and everything was back to normal in the Malfoy castle.  
  
Perhaps the only thing exciting right now was the fact that Starshine had given birth. Which was why Draco was in the stables, taking care of the animals in the dead of night. It was also the reason why Hermione wanted nothing else than to be in his arms, making her feel safe and protected from the March night.  
  
Spring was making its way towards that part of France, but the air was still chilly and the snow had not yet lifted from the earth.  
  
Hermione sighed as she lifted herself off the window ledge where she'd spent the past half hour looking out into the garden. Well actually, she spent the past half hour looking out at the dark. She couldn't sleep and she knew the reason why.  
  
It was that damn excerpt!  
  
Hermione walked towards her bed, not bothering to remove the shawl she'd placed over her shoulders when she peered out into the darkness, and slipped in between the covers. It was that damn excerpt that kept her from having a good night's sleep.  
  
She rolled over to her side, thinking about the piece of paper she'd found in the storage-turned-sitting room long before, when she had nothing to do as Draco was off fighting in the battles with his friend. She'd found it in one of the boxes lying around in the room. She knew she should have left it alone, for it was a probably a page out of Draco's journal, but she didn't. Instead, she had to read what it contained.  
  
It was no more than a few words really, but it gave her the chills from just reading them. She had kept it for so long, waiting for the time that Draco would finally find out and curse and get angry at her. So far, after a few months of keeping it to herself, he never suspected a thing. The page was partly burned, meaning that he had forgotten what he written so long before. He had intended to forget.  
  
She kept the piece of parchment with her at all times, meaning to always ask Draco about what he meant by writing it. She assumed that he did write it, anyway. But she also wanted him to tell her about what happened before. She was waiting for that exact moment when he would break down the walls and let her into his memory.  
  
The writings on the paper were imprinted clearly in Hermione's mind.  
  
It read:  
  
'I killed him, Father. And I will kill them as well. I am a murderer... their blood will forever taint my hands. Durant will never see the light. And neither will I.'  
  
* * *  
  
A hundred miles or so away, Gareth Durant was busy planning his attack. When he had come home to his fortress in Normandy, foul news befell on him for he found out that his spy had been killed by no other than the man who killed every known Durant. Except for him.  
  
Gareth paced around his room, thinking about the best plan of attack.  
  
He had gone through with his first phase of his plan. He had never seen Draco Malfoy before. He had only heard stories that he was a good and just Lord. But no one dared to speak of Malfoy's past.  
  
No one even acknowledged Malfoy to be the murderer of the Durant clan. Just because Madigan Durant was a bastard and a rapist, does not mean that people should just forget about what Malfoy did to him.  
  
At quite an early age of thirteen, Gareth had only one mission in life. To kill the man, no, the boy, who killed his father. To deal him the same kind of death he had dealt his father.  
  
Images of his childhood began flooding back. How he saw his father's army approached their home... Gareth had searched for his father's horse in the midst, but he never found it. When he came down, his father's soldiers presented to him the head of his father, decapitated and impaled on a staff.  
  
A note was nailed on his father's head. It was covered in blood, but was still readable. The handwriting was shaky, almost as if the note was made in anger and fury.  
  
It read:  
  
'Madigan Durant falls... and so will the rest of Durant. Every life slain will be for my father's. I will not stop until the last of Durant blood falls on the ground.'  
  
Gareth had read it and his eyes fell on the last piece of the note on the lower right side of the paper. He knew he would never want or crave death until he saw to the demise of the one who killed his own father. The note was signed by Draco Malfoy.  
  
Gareth snapped back to the present, his hands clenched at his sides and his whole body bursting with anger. He cursed Malfoy.  
  
He killed my father, and every single Durant in the whole of France! Gareth thought angrily as he looked out of the window and watched as the black of the night began to slowly fade. It was morning. He continued his train of thought. And they [the people] do not even hang him for his crimes! They do not avenge my family's death! They praise him and cower before me!  
  
He pushed off the window ledge and glanced at the map of France he had spread on his desk. His eyes rested on Brittany for a moment before sliding over to Aquitaine.  
  
Gareth had attended the wedding of Emil de Gervais and Olivia Haven without them knowing that a Durant was in the midst. No one had suspected, especially Draco Malfoy.  
  
He smiled evilly. It was one tactic of war... to know your enemy before he knows you. And to know what he holds dear so you can take it away from him. His smile quickly turned into a scowl when he thought about what Malfoy held dear.  
  
It had been so easy... He simply posed as a distant relative, even gave her a fake name. She obviously did not know anything much because if she did, she would have known that there was no such person as Sir William of England.  
  
Gareth recalled their conversation. She had been polite, but Gareth knew that any advances towards her would be futile, because she dearly loved Draco Malfoy.  
  
He took a few deep breaths before turning back to the window and saying:  
  
"I want to kill the man who murdered my father. I want to take away what he has, and crush it in the palm of my hand. I will take away his only weakness, his source, his being and use it against him. I will have you Lady Hermione - I will take you away from the man who truly loves you for who you are and what you mean to him."  
  
* * *  
  
Spring had finally settled in after a few more weeks and Hermione was never happier to be back in Draco's garden, tending to the plants and flowers while he went on with the training of his soldiers and such. Hermione placed that paper at the back of her mind.  
  
It was not hard to forget about it really. Who would think about a piece of paper when you had the man of your dreams kissing you senseless every time you two were alone? If not kissing, then looking at you with that intense stare that looked right through you and into your soul...  
  
It was during one spring afternoon that shattered it all. Draco and Hermione were in the sitting room simply talking when a soldier arrived, bearing news for Draco.  
  
Draco spoke with the man in hushed tones, but Hermione instinctively knew what they were talking about. When the man left and Draco sat back down on the couch, Hermione asked him on impulse, never minding the consequences.  
  
"It's about Durant, isn't it? He's planning something." Hermione said. Draco looked at her, shock and confusion on his face.  
  
"How do you know about Durant?" He asked levelly.  
  
Hermione took a deep breath before reaching down under her gown and pulling out the piece of paper she'd always carried in her chest. With shaking hands, she gave it to him. She couldn't look at him after that.  
  
Draco took the paper and unfolded it. His eyes read over the familiar lines and his blood began to boil. He looked straight ahead.  
  
"Where did you find this?" He asked, his voice as cold as ice.  
  
"Right here... when it was still used as a storage room." Hermione answered in a soft voice.  
  
"So you knew about me... about this... for-"  
  
"More or less four months. I know." Hermione interrupted.  
  
There was silence. Then Draco rose up.  
  
"Draco?" Hermione called just as he stood up. His back was towards her and he was breathing in what seemed to be deep and calming intakes of air. "I'm-"  
  
"Stop." He said harshly. His hands were clenched at his sides and he was shaking. "Just stop. Don't lie to me anymore."  
  
"I did not lie, Draco." Hermione said, standing up as well and laying a hand on his arm which he shrugged off.  
  
"You did." He answered, looking back at her. Hermione's eye started to water at the anger evident on his face. "You kept this whole thing from me..."  
  
"I didn't know how to ask you... I meant to ask you, Draco. Please..." Hermione pleaded.  
  
"Be quiet." Draco said. Hermione shut her mouth with a snap. It took a few moments before Draco suddenly stalked out of the room. Hermione quickly followed and grabbed his arm.  
  
He stopped. But the look he gave her made her want to cry. And the words he said after made her want to die.  
  
"Get out. Leave. I don't care anymore." Draco said before walking out into the hall and making his way towards his room.  
  
"Draco...!" Hermione called after him. She felt powerless to stop him and weak to follow him. She sank down on the floor and placed her head in her hands.  
  
After a few minutes of uncontrolled sobbing, she made a decision. Getting up quickly and going to her own room, she planned to heed what Draco had ordered her to do.  
  
She would leave him. She did not know where she would go... or what would happen to her if she did. She didn't care anymore. 


	19. Living For Love

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews! Thank you for making me smile every time I read them... they certainly give me a lot of inspiration and encouragement! As for the last chapter, I'm sorry I had to leave it like that, but anyway, the story continues. And it's continuing for the better. Actually, I know you all are probably going to hate me because of this chapter as well, but anyway. Onwards!  
  
Chapter 19: Living for Love  
  
Draco had not slept that night. He simply cast himself on a chair and stared into the fire as it burned into ashes. He didn't feel the cold of the wind or the warmth of the fire as it blazed. He made no move to get up or even change his sitting position. He stared almost unblinkingly, unknowingly into space as he thought about what had transpired only hours ago.  
  
She knows... She knew... Draco thought.  
  
It was all he could think about. The fact that Hermione Granger knew about what happened, no, what he had done was... unbearable to think of. He thought he could escape it without her ever knowing. But it seemed that the fates had a different idea of how he was going to live his life.  
  
Damn the fates, then! He thought angrily.  
  
His handsome face was set in a grim expression. He gritted his teeth so hard that it hurt so much and he ultimately had to stop. His clenched fists were a different matter, though. When he finally opened them, he found out that his nails had drawn blood from his palms. He knew that it should have stung, but he was ignoring everything, every other pain. Except for the pain in his heart.  
  
And yet, this pain in his heart was the one that hurt the most.  
  
In the few instances of the fates trying to persevere, he thought himself the fool. That he was the one to blame for the heavy ache in his heart. Hermione had simply stumbled upon the page of his journal he thought he'd burned a long time ago. But then, he would dismiss it and return to being angry with her for not telling him... For not asking about what his writings meant...  
  
For not leaving him when she had the chance to do so.  
  
After all, it was what he expected of anyone who happened to know about his pathetic past. Only one person had stuck to his side when Draco had told his sad tale. That person was Goyle.  
  
"Draco!" Called Goyle from beyond the heavy wooden door of Draco's room. Draco did not answer at once and so Goyle had to raise his voice. "Draco, open this door!" Goyle called again as he pounded his fist on the door.  
  
Nothing. Silence.  
  
"Draco! Open the bloody goddamn door! There is something you must know!" Goyle tried again.  
  
Still nothing.  
  
"Draco!!! It's about Hermione..." Goyle said, hoping that it would at least make Draco open the door so that they could speak in normalcy. Goyle was not about to announce it to the whole castle at dawn. And if Goyle knew Draco, which he did, he knew that Draco was still awake.  
  
Goyle took a deep breath, debating his next move. Draco was still up, Goyle knew that. He was just wallowing in his own misery to open the damn door. Hermione still had the key to Draco's room and Goyle knew that she wasn't in the castle premises anymore. The thought of Hermione riding into the harsh night, unarmed and unaware of her surroundings made Goyle's choice of path extremely easy to do.  
  
"Draco! Hermione's gone." Goyle said, in a voice that was loud enough to be heard by Draco, but not anybody else. Goyle counted the seconds before Draco opened the door. Goyle never even got to three before Draco forcefully opened the door and glared at Goyle.  
  
"What in the bloody hell did you just say?" Draco demanded.  
  
"Hermione's gone." Goyle repeated, pushing Draco back so that they would talk privately in Draco's room.  
  
"What do you mean she's gone?!?!" Draco roared, not budging from his position.  
  
"Draco, not here... we're going to wake up the whole household." Goyle said.  
  
"I don't care about the bloody castle!!" Draco yelled. "Where is she?!?"  
  
"She left... she took Starshine and went through your gates to God- knows-where!" Goyle retorted.  
  
Draco's blood ran cold. She left... She left him...  
  
But didn't he tell her to leave him in the first place? Wasn't this what he wanted? He had been angry at her for knowing his past and not leaving him. Now, he was angry at her for actually leaving him?  
  
"Get out of my way." Draco said, his voice was deadly. He glared at Goyle who quickly moved aside and let Draco pass.  
  
"Where are you going?" Goyle asked.  
  
"I never took you for the fool, Goyle." Draco said sarcastically. The only possible way to control his anger was by sarcasm and something more that Draco refused to acknowledge at this point. "But, I think this is an exception." He continued as he went down the stairs, taking three at a time and heading to the ground floor of his castle.  
  
"Well...?" Goyle prompted, huffing and puffing as he tried to catch up with Draco.  
  
"Off to get her, what else?" Draco explained. "Get my cloak and other things I need."  
  
"You need?" Goyle said, stopping in his tracks as they reached the bottom of the stairs and Draco was quickly going to the front doors of the entrance hall. "You can't go alone!"  
  
"If she can, then I can." Draco retorted. "I don't bloody need a goddamn guard when I'm off fetching a goddamn woman!" Draco called out as he headed towards the portcullis. Once there, he called out his soldiers.  
  
"Who's the goddamn soldier who let that damn woman out of my gates?!" Draco roared. He looked at each man and they all had their heads bowed. Then, slowly and shakily, one of his guards raised their hands, not being able to look at his Lord. "Come here." Draco said viciously. The man quickly went up to Draco, still with his head bowed.  
  
"Get me my bloody horse!" He shouted to one guard who quickly sped off. Draco turned back to the guard who had let Hermione out. Goyle had just come up to where Draco was standing; in his hands were Draco's chain mail and cloak. He stopped a few paces from where Draco was standing.  
  
"Did you let her out?" Draco asked.  
  
"Yes, my lord." The man replied in a small voice.  
  
"You know better!" Draco shot back. "You should know better and I should have you hanged for this mistake!!"  
  
The man let out a sound which could only be classified as a squeak.  
  
"But... other matters are pressing and I don't have time for a hanging..." Draco said as he took the chain mail from Goyle and slipped it on along with his cloak. Goyle held the reins of Dusk who was just as grim as his master. A package of food, water and blankets were strapped on to the horse. Draco then got on Dusk and ordered the portcullis to be raised. "Do not get your hopes up, man." Draco said as he was about to ride out. "When I come back, be sure you are ready to compensate for this!"  
  
Without so much as another word, Draco sped towards the outer bailey and the town that awaited him. He had no other thing in mind except to find Hermione.  
  
And wring her neck once he got to her.  
  
* * *  
  
Hermione had cried herself to sleep. When she woke up to the harsh light of the sun breaking through the canopy of trees, she felt the puffiness of her eyes and the sensitivity to light. Hermione rose up to a sitting position and looked around. Starshine was contentedly grazing off the side and her surroundings looked foreign to her in the day.  
  
Or maybe that's because my vision was blurry with tears. She thought as she massaged her shoulders. She had slept on nothing except a patch of grass, using her cloak as a blanket. And she didn't know where in the hell she was.  
  
She had ridden from Draco's castle the night before, only taking Starshine with her. She even managed to escape the guard by making some pathetic story about... she couldn't even remember what she had said. Her mind had been in a daze after what happened between Draco and her.  
  
'Get out. Leave. I don't care anymore.'  
  
His words almost killed her. She cried all the way to the forest a few miles beyond Draco's castle. She merely let Starshine be her guide. Starshine took her here and Hermione got off and settled to sleep at the foot of a tree. She didn't bring any food or water with her, intending to starve to death in the cold forest. After all, she didn't care anymore.  
  
Hermione brought her knees to her chest and laid her forehead on them. She had a terrible headache, one borne from crying too much and not eating. She was so intent on thinking about nothing but her last encounter with Draco that she didn't hear the heavy footsteps on the forest floor, coming towards her in rapid speed.  
  
Suddenly, she was lifted off her feet, courtesy of the two hands grasping her upper arms, and pinned backwards to the trunk of the tree. Hermione didn't even have time to react when she realized that it was Draco who was holding her a few inches above ground. His face was set in an angry expression and his eyes positively blazed with unleashed fury.  
  
"What in the hell were you thinking?!?! Leaving the castle like that!!" Draco roared.  
  
It took Hermione a few moments before she snapped out of her stupor and snapped back at him, wrenching away from his grasp until she dropped to the floor and removed his hands off her.  
  
"What do you mean?! You're the one who told me to get out of your castle!" Hermione shot back. She stood up to her full height and glared at him. "What are you doing here, anyway?!"  
  
"Coming to get you, of course!" Draco retorted.  
  
"What? First you say that I should leave the castle then you're telling me to go back there! I most definitely will not!" Hermione answered.  
  
"And you're simply going to stay here and die?!"  
  
"Why shouldn't I? After all, I am dead to you, aren't I?" Hermione replied.  
  
"If you were dead to me, then why did I bother searching for you since dawn?" Draco countered loudly.  
  
Hermione was silent for a moment. He had searched for her since dawn? And what was it now, noon, perhaps? "I don't know... to come and yell at me to get out of your life? And probably to get me away from your forest as well?" Hermione said sarcastically. She wasn't about to back down and give in... until he explained to her.  
  
"And what would you have done if I hadn't found you?" Draco asked, changing the current flow of the topic. "Sit here and die?!"  
  
"Doesn't sound like a bad idea to me..." Hermione remarked. "I was about to do that, actually, if you hadn't come here."  
  
"So you want me to leave you? Is that it?"  
  
"Yes!" Hermione cried out... even though her mind and heart were telling her otherwise.  
  
Draco looked uncertain for a moment, as if he were pondering on her words and trying to come to a decision. He looked back at her. When she glared at him, mostly for keeping up her harsh exterior, he almost turned away and walked towards his horse. Almost.  
  
His next words were like a phoenix' song to Hermione's ears.  
  
"I can't." Draco said in a softer tone. "I want to and I'll be damned for it... but I can't leave you be." He looked at her. All traces of anger and fury were gone from his eyes. He simply looked... hurt. He looked away after that, probably realizing that he had exposed so much emotion to her. Emotion he didn't know he possessed.  
  
Hermione wanted to cry. She wanted to cry for him; because her heart ached so much but she knew it wasn't as much as how his heart ached. It ached for her. She realized. And she wanted all his hurt to be gone.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she placed a tentative hand on his arm and said, "Then why don't we sit down and you can tell me what I did wrong."  
  
Draco looked back into Hermione's face and nodded. He noticed Hermione's cloak lying beside their feet and bent down, brushed it off and placed it around her shoulders. He then told her to wait as he got the blanket, food and water from Dusk who was grazing with Startshine a few yards away. When he came back to Hermione, he laid out the blanket and told her to sit on it. When she did, he did the same and gave her the food and drink.  
  
"Eat." He told her as he gave her food. "You must be hungry."  
  
"What about you? You're hungry as well." Hermione pointed out but took the package anyway. She was delighted to find out that the package consisted of sweet pastries and bread. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she placed the experience to memory. This was their first 'picnic' after all.  
  
"What I hunger for cannot be satisfied by food alone." Draco said, looking at her with a steady gaze. It was those eyes again, looking at her with such intensity, Hermione didn't know what to make of all of it.  
  
"Then what do you hunger for?" She asked as she ate and drank.  
  
"Would you want to know the good things or the bad first?" Draco asked her, a hint of a smile crossed his features. Hermione smiled at him as well.  
  
"I can take a guess." She replied. "Revenge?"  
  
He nodded and took a deep breath. Hermione was quick to assure him. "Then tell me, so I can understand." She prodded.  
  
"Madigan Durant killed my father, Lucius Malfoy." Draco said after a few silent moments. "Durant was supposed to marry my mother in an arranged marriage. But on the eve of their wedding, my father and mother escaped to Scotland."  
  
Hermione stilled when she heard all this. Eve of their wedding? Hermione repeated in her mind. She couldn't help but make the connection to her own life. Of course, her wedding was never an arranged marriage, but she really couldn't help equate it to Draco's parents' situation.  
  
It was crazy and amazing at the same time. Narcissa was supposed to marry Madigan, but on the eve of their wedding, Lucius whisked her off to Scotland. It was like her own life. She was supposed to marry Ron, but on the eve of their wedding, she was having doubts... and somehow, she was transported to the 1300's and met Draco.  
  
Hermione snapped back to reality as Draco continued.  
  
"Fifteen years later, when I was thirteen, Durant and his army attacked our home. My father told my mother and me to escape..."  
  
"Where did you go?" Hermione asked.  
  
"We set out for France." Draco said. "But, we stayed with a few townsfolk in England who were kind enough to let us stay a while when we were in hiding."  
  
"How long were you in hiding?"  
  
"About a year." Draco answered. "It was enough for me to track down Madigan and..." He trailed off.  
  
"And?" Hermione prompted.  
  
"And kill him." Draco replied.  
  
Hermione looked down, taking deep breaths. She made no judgment, no argument. She simply wanted to hear him and she could understand his situation. He surely didn't think that she would get angry at him for what he had done in the past. Could he?  
  
She was met with stark realization when she remembered how he had reacted when he found out that she knew about his past. He did think that she would hate him... And she knew that she didn't. In fact, she was feeling the exact opposite of hate.  
  
"Have I disgusted you yet?" He asked. There was a dangerous and almost fearful tone in the way he said it. He was scared of her turning away from him... She realized suddenly.  
  
"Why should I be disgusted?" Hermione asked softly, gently regarding him.  
  
He looked at her sharply and confusion briefly invaded his features. "Because I'm a murderer."  
  
"You're not a murderer." Hermione replied.  
  
"I am." Draco insisted. "Because I did not only kill Madigan, I killed his brothers and uncles and every single Durant ever since my younger days... I should be hanged... if it weren't for their own sins."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Some of the Durant men were known for taking advantage of poor young women. They also tortured for no reason at all." Draco said.  
  
"Then they deserve to die." Hermione stated.  
  
"That may be so... but I have killed." Draco said. "I have sinned... and there is still one last Durant."  
  
"Who is he?"  
  
"Gareth. Madigan's only son." Draco said bitterly. "I have never met him or seen him. But he knows who I am. When I am through with him, -"  
  
"You would kill yourself." Hermione softly finished for him, remembering the page from Draco's journal.  
  
Draco nodded, not wanting to meet her gaze. "I do not deserve to live after what I have done."  
  
"What about me?" Hermione asked. "What would become of me when you decide to end your life?"  
  
Draco forced himself to look at her. "You would go and find another man." He said decidedly. "Someone who is worthy of you. You would have a better life and-"  
  
Hermione had enough so she interrupted him. "You don't think I've already found the man I've been looking for my whole life?"  
  
"Who?" Draco couldn't help but ask.  
  
She smiled at him, trying not to laugh. He didn't think that she loved him? "You, of course."  
  
Draco looked shocked... and he was rendered speechless. So Hermione continued.  
  
"Did you really think, no wait, did you really expect me to leave you after I found out about your past?" Hermione asked.  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
"Where am I right now, Draco?"  
  
"Right here."  
  
"And I'm not going anywhere." Hermione declared. "I only left you because I was hurt after what you said. I left you yesterday because I was angry at you... but now..."  
  
"Now?"  
  
"I think..." Hermione stopped herself. "No... I know I love you." And she smiled sweetly at him.  
  
Draco swallowed. He looked at her for a long time, trying to see if she was not sure about what she said. But he found no evidence of her not saying the truth. She did love him. After all he said and his past, she loved him.  
  
"You can't love me..." Draco rasped. "I'm a murderer."  
  
"No, you're not." Hermione insisted. "What's past is past. We can't change it, Draco. But I don't care about your past. In the months I've known you, you've shown me nothing but tenderness and care and concern..." And hopefully, love. She finished in her head.  
  
"I can't escape it, Hermione." Draco said. "I see their deaths in my mind, I hear their screams for mercy... their blood taints my hands..."  
  
"Then see only me, Draco. Then think only of me." Hermione said, coming closer to him until only a few inches separated them. "Then hear only my voice... and hold me in your hands and heart."  
  
She then took one of his hands and laid it over her heart. She looked up at his shocked face and smiled up at him.  
  
"I belong to you, Draco. No matter what happens, no matter what did happen before, I belong to you and only you." Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes and they slowly flowed down to her cheeks as she said those words fervently. "You have my heart, my mind, my body and my soul. I am yours, Draco Malfoy."  
  
She looked up at him with such love and trust that he couldn't say anything at first. So, he simply put his other hand on her cheek and brushed away her tears which were flowing freely now.  
  
"Please don't cry, Hermione." Draco said softly.  
  
"I'm sorry for crying..." She said.  
  
"Hermione...?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Draco took a deep breath. "If I promise you that I would protect you with my life, and look forward to each day just to see you and be with you, and..." Draco paused and took another deep breath. "And love you with all that I am... will you marry me?" He looked at her with a bit of apprehension and fear in his eyes.  
  
Hermione was speechless... the she cried more tears and smiled through them. "Yes... yes!" Hermione answered as she placed her arms around his neck and hugged him for dear life.  
  
When she pulled slightly away to look at him, he smiled and kissed her. The kiss was deep and hard and passionate and the most beautiful thing ever. The intensity of kisses they shared before was multiplied about a hundred times, mostly because they finally admitted to themselves that they did love each other.  
  
After a few minutes, they broke apart and realized that they were leaning towards the blanket-covered forest floor. Draco was about to straighten up when Hermione grabbed the front of his clothes and pulled him close. Draco placed his hands on her back to keep her from falling.  
  
Hermione looked up to his eyes and smiled before softly speaking.  
  
"Make love to me, Draco Malfoy." 


	20. Falling Into Abyss

Author's Note: Thank you for all of your reviews! I know, I know, it's been a long time since I've updated or given you guys any clue as to what I've been up to. But what can I say? I've been suffering from major writer's block and I couldn't get any angle to work! So sorry, once again! But hey, chapter 20 is here, thank God! Thanks to The Calling, whose song "Stigmatized" has given me some sort of inspiration for this chapter and I have no idea why. I hope I'm not being too explicit... mind you, this is the first time I'm writing a scene such as this... Forgive me if I'm not that great at it. But anyways, enjoy!  
  
Chapter 20: Falling Into Abyss  
  
Draco looked just as shocked as Hermione felt. But there was no turning back now... She'd said it. From the deepest part of her heart and soul, she'd said the one statement that defied everything she'd lived with in her present: her family, her life back in the future, Ron... But she didn't care.  
  
He had straightened up during the time she'd spent thinking about those few words she'd uttered. She glanced at him, unsure of what to do next or how to proceed. Oh why was he being so awfully quiet?! And why wasn't he doing anything except look at her. All she had to do was wait... and probably hope.  
  
"Hermione..." He'd said at last. Meaning to relieve the tension they were both feeling, she'd guessed. Her hands were still on the front of his clothes, clutching them as if she were drowning. His hands were now on her waist, not moving, simply holding her.  
  
Draco wrenched his eyes away from hers for a moment before continuing in a soft voice. Soft, yes... but it was low and husky and it sent tremors all over Hermione's body. But maybe that was from the anticipation of him saying any other thing...  
  
"You torture me, did you know that?" He's said, looking back at her.  
  
Hermione's brow furrowed, wondering at what he meant. She was about to ask him about it when her mouth suddenly went dry and she couldn't think. He was staring at her... with more intensity than a bolt of lightning.  
  
"You torture me to possess you." He continued. "You provoke me into wanting everything about you."  
  
Hermione bowed her head slightly and closed her eyes. He was quiet for a moment before leaning in ever so subtly and bringing up his hand to rest at her neck. She gasped when he'd encompassed her whole length. His hand had slowly traveled up her waist; slightly brushing her rib cage and part of her breast before finally landing at the side of her neck.  
  
He whispered into her ear. "Do you want to know what I want, Hermione?"  
  
Her sigh was more than an answer to him. Her eyes were still closed as his lips brushed part of her jaw.  
  
"I want to touch you in places I only dream about..." He said, running his hand up and down from her neck down her arm to her elbow and back. "Those places where no man has ever touched... I want to hold you in my arms when no one could ever take you away from me."  
  
Hermione was trembling and her skin broke out in gooseflesh. Her breathing became even more ragged when Draco started kissing her neck. He bit and sucked and licked at the skin, making her give little gasps at the pleasure she was feeling. Everything was a haze now. She could hear only his voice, feel only his hand as he caressed her through the sleeve of her gown and cloak, revel in his kisses that made her grasp more tightly at his shirt when he bit her skin, only to be soothed by more kisses.  
  
Draco continued to speak. "I want to kiss every curve and line of your body. And yet I want more..."  
  
"Draco..." Hermione whispered. She wanted him to stop talking... and do whatever he wanted to do. But he didn't heed her plea. Not yet.  
  
"I don't want to make love to you, Hermione."  
  
Hermione's eyes popped open and she tried to push him away and look at him. How dare he?! He had just said that he didn't want to... make love and yet he was still kissing her neck, going back to her ear and sucking on the soft spot beneath it.  
  
But her efforts of getting away were futile... and so was her comprehension of his statement.  
  
"That's not all that I want..." Draco continued. Hermione almost let out a silent sigh of relief... but she didn't want him to end his ministrations or his beautiful words. Nor did she want to come out as some girl who desperately wanted to make love with him. Even thought that was what she wanted at that moment. "I want to live you..." He continued. "Breathe you... possess you and keep you with me for all time." His lips trailed kisses from beneath her ear to her jaw and finally kiss her until she was too weak to keep herself up. If it weren't for his other hand still at her waist and her hands still on the front of his clothes, she would've probably melted away.  
  
He broke the kiss, breathing heavily and opening his eyes to look at her. It took her a while before she opened her eyes as well.  
  
"Would you let me?" He asked simply.  
  
"Yes." Hermione answered without hesitation. His expression was unreadable, but Hermione's mind was on other things than reading his expression. He had kissed her again, long and hard, powerful and demanding, yet gentle in his own way. When the kiss stopped and Draco pulled away slightly to catch his breath and look at her, Hermione saw the intensity in his eyes... intensity for her.  
  
Draco kneeled in front of her, bowing his head and busying his hands with removing the clasp of her cloak before letting the material pool to the blanket. He looked at her as he started to remove his own cloak and the chain mail underneath it.  
  
"Let me." Hermione said, sitting up straight and without waiting for his answer, unclasped the cloak and removed it from his body. The chain mail proved to be harder than she thought, having no encounter of removing chain mail from a man's body. Actually, she had no encounter of removing any article of clothing from a man's body... save for his now.  
  
She looked up at him questioningly as he let out a smile and a faint chuckle. Hermione blushed. Draco's hands came up and removed it deftly before she could catch what he had done. When he threw the chain mail to land somewhere in the patch of grass, Hermione had other things on her mind than how to remove chain mail. Like, the shirt Draco had on... and what lay beneath it.  
  
Hermione tentatively placed her hand somewhere in his midsection, flattening her palm on it. Draco watched her as she did her best attempts at - er - exploring his body. But Hermione wasn't concerned with how she looked like a very innocent girl then, she was too busy moving her hand upward. Her eyes widened with an emotion of half amusement and half naivety. She felt the hardness of his chest and the deep breaths he took as she took her hand even upward, her gaze trailing along with it. When she reached the base of his neck, her eyes locked with his as her hand went over his shoulder and landed approximately at the back of his head. With a ferocity she never knew was in her, she pulled him toward her, kissing him thoroughly on the lips.  
  
Draco didn't need any further encouragement. Grasping her upper arms, he pulled her even closer to him. Surely enough, she was mostly off the ground and relying on Draco for support as the kiss deepened. Gravity was not an issue because Draco easily shifted his kneeling position to a sit. After all, Hermione was light and was too into the kiss to not realize that she was now straddling him.  
  
Hermione broke away hastily, gasping for air as she lolled her head back. This gave Draco access to her jaw and neck... and everything else that was not covered by clothing. Meanwhile, his hands had gone from her arms and down to her waist and hips. The gown Hermione wore had a wide rounded neckline that showed off a mere inch and a half of skin from her collarbone. But Draco was not unperturbed by it. He had been kissing and sucking on the skin that was inches from the swell of her breasts and he couldn't stand it any longer.  
  
His kisses went up her neck as Hermione gasped more audibly when he would suck on his choice territories for longer than was necessary. But finally, when she was about to cry out for him to stop his doings and kiss her again, he was now content on gently sucking on the spot below her left ear. Hermione moaned lowly and for a brief moment, wondered if the sounds she'd been hearing for the past few minutes were really coming from her.  
  
"Could you unhook your gown for me?" Draco asked, whispering in her ear before kissing her hair. "Or would you rather I do it myself."  
  
Hermione smiled in spite of herself and drew back slightly to look at him. Draco was looking at her with such a fervent gaze that she couldn't help but play quite the innocent seductress at this point. During her teens and through college, she'd read almost every romance novel there was, therefore she knew about the teasing games and actions the two main characters in the novel did.  
  
And she guessed that now was the right time to test them.  
  
"Let's see..." Hermione started, pursing her lips in such a cute way that Draco had to restrain himself from kissing her and rendering her unable to finish her sentence. "If I do it, and you my Lord, would know that my hands are the only thing keeping me from toppling over in an ungraceful way..." She trailed off, laughing a bit and earning a smirk from him in the process. It was true however. Her hands were locked behind his neck and with her straddling him already; she would fall over if she removed them.  
  
"You have a point, my Lady." Draco replied coolly. "But it does not solve our predicament."  
  
"I was getting to that." She chided lightly. "Maybe we could - oh!" But she was rudely interrupted by Draco who appeared to be far more interested in her upper jaw than what she had in mind. As Hermione was slowly drawn in by Draco's inventive kissing and such, he took the time to trail his hand from her waist and up her spine, causing her to unintentionally arch up against him. Smoothly, Draco had unhooked the gown before she knew it was ever happening. The only thing that roused Hermione from the daze she was in was the feel of Draco's hands on her bare back and the slightly chilly breeze.  
  
Hermione drew back with an accusing look at Draco who merely smirked. Then, he started to peel off the gown from her body. It was the breeze that let out a subtle statement that somehow couldn't be ignored.  
  
"Wait...!" Hermione cried out just as Draco was about to slip if off her shoulders and move to the arms next. How he would he manage to remove the sleeves when her hands were still locked at the nape of his neck would be for later, because now his attention was focused on her and why she decided to interrupt him.  
  
"What is it?" Draco asked, trying so hard not to give in to his urges. It was true that he could control himself during the past, but this was different. She was so close... and he knew that if he couldn't have her now, he would be much better off throwing himself over his tower back in the castle. Or getting trampled by Dusk. Or-  
  
"Um..." Hermione didn't know exactly how to phrase her question... so she just blurted out the first thing that came to her mind, regretting it almost instantly after she said it. "Aren't we going to get cold?"  
  
Draco was truly surprised that he was having a hard time suppressing a laugh or even a smile. To him, his soon-to-be-bride was indeed naïve in such matters and it was endearing so. Why, she was more concerned about the weather rather than what they were about to do in the middle of the forest.  
  
"From the looks of what we're going to be doing, my Lady, we shouldn't feel the cold." Draco replied, failing to keep the grin off his face. "But if you're so worried, then rest assured that I would have it as my personal duty to keep you warm." Both inside and out... he finished in his head.  
  
"Oh..." Hermione realized that she must sound so innocent to him. So inexperienced... But he didn't sound too demanding or even impatient with her. "Then, go and continue what you were going to do..." She said finally.  
  
Draco's grin faltered mockingly for a moment. "There is one problem, however."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Your locked hands hinder me from taking your gown off completely." He said bluntly. Hermione colored, the blush giving heat to her cheeks as she surveyed what he was pointing out to her. Draco continued, "If you remove your hands, you would fall... If I attempted to remove both of mine, you would still fall."  
  
"So... what are you going to do?" Hermione asked.  
  
"I suggest we help each other." Draco answered. "Like this."  
  
And he reached behind, grabbed one of her hands and removed it from the back of his head. He trailed up her slightly bent and free arm, pulling the gown off her shoulder. He continued peeling the sleeve off her arm as she pulled her arm close to her body. When one sleeve was off, they did the same on the other side. Soon, Hermione's gown had pooled to her waist and her upper body was bare.  
  
Draco had a hard time breathing. Here he was, at close proximity to the woman who was giving herself to him, and she looked exceedingly pristine. Soft, creamy skin that was his and his only to touch and kiss and... He gazed at her for a long time, taking in every detail of her beautiful body. Her breasts were round and firm, her dark nipples were already peaking from the cold and probably something more. There was a small mole on the underside of her right breast and another one just above her navel. When Draco's eyes slid upward to her face, he saw a mixture of uncertainty and certainty in her eyes. She was looking at him uneasily.  
  
Draco bowed his head for a moment, trying to best come up with something to say... some words to describe her. And some words to take his mind off what she looked like to him and what it was doing to his body.  
  
"Immaculate." He stated simply, looking back at her. He grimaced with the strain of his arousal at the sight of her but he didn't want to frighten her by explaining himself. So, he continued. "Beautiful and pure... I'm unworthy of you, I can imagine."  
  
"No..." Hermione said quickly. "You're more than worthy."  
  
With this, they shared a kiss once more. Hermione whimpered when she pressed against his form harder than ever before. Without any trace of clothing on her upper body, it was easier for her to feel him against her. And despite what may have transpired just a few minutes before, Draco had easily maneuvered her to slide off his lap and to land on the blanket. Then, he gently prodded her to lie back down as he removed his shirt and tossed it somewhere to the side.  
  
When she lay back down, he propped himself on his hands on either side of her shoulders and continued to kiss her. Tongues tasting, Hermione's hands roaming everywhere, touching his chest, feeling the muscles of his stomach, one of Draco's hands had come away from the blanketed ground and came to rest on the curve of her waist... it was hard for them to keep track of the sensations they both were feeling. Draco broke from the kiss suddenly, causing Hermione to protest, but she soon quieted when he trailed kisses down her throat. He was idly tracing a pattern on the flat plane of her stomach, before moving upward and coming to trace the underside of one breast.  
  
Hermione gasped when she felt the tip of his finger there. It shot a spark of electricity in her, coming to rest somewhere between her legs, heating up her core. She moaned throatily when Draco cupped one breast and was kneading it.  
  
"Draco..." She breathed, her hands momentarily stopping in their explorations of his upper body as he circled her nipple with his index finger. Hermione felt his warm breath on her chest before she felt it just above her breast. She let go of everything in her mind, content and focused on watching Draco as he made love to her with his hands and mouth... before he made love with her with other parts of his body.  
  
He was looking at her, looking at him. When he bent down to taste her there, she let out an involuntary shiver, but was nowhere near feeling cold or chilly. On the contrary, she was feeling warm... Pretty soon, he was more or less suckling her, taking most of her breast in his mouth as his hand kneaded the other one, causing her to whimper and moan and thrash slightly. When he was done, he turned to the other breast and did the same.  
  
Hermione, meanwhile had moved her hands from his chest to his back, tracing indolent patterns and digging in her nails when Draco chanced to bite a bit. When he stopped his attentions on her breasts, he trailed his kisses back to her lips and they kissed for quite sometime, with Hermione arching her back every now and then. The cool air was blowing ever so subtly and the moistened peaks of her breasts definitely gave her the chills.  
  
Draco's hands dropped to her gown still clinging to her waist and hips. His hands continued down the length of one leg, pausing at her knee before lifting her leg and bending it. From there, he continued to remove her shoes and do the same to the other one. How he managed this without missing a beat in their impassioned kissing and petting, Hermione was still too heady to care or wonder.  
  
She did care however when he suddenly removed the rest of her clothing in one simple, fluid movement. She had broken away from his kiss and he was glad because it gave him a chance to see her lying naked before him. And he couldn't take his eyes off her. Her hands had come back down from him in an attempt to cover herself. Draco smiled lovingly at her, and this in turn caused Hermione's hands to falter in their hindrance. Draco took this chance to grasp her wrists lightly with one hand, bringing them above her head. Hermione looked away, ashamed of being thoroughly naked in front of a man for the first time.  
  
"Look at me, Hermione." Draco said softly. And Hermione turned back to him, however reluctant she was. Draco's gaze bored into her, searching only her face and eyes and never flickering downwards. "Are you frightened?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "Just a little..."  
  
Draco smiled. "Such beauty and innocence..." His free hand dropped to her stomach, fingertips grazing the skin lightly before continuing down slowly. His fingers brushing over the thatch of curls protecting her womanhood caused her to arch more into him, her upper body grazing with his. Draco cursed inwardly, damning his responses to hell.  
  
Hermione took a sharp intake of breath as one of his long fingers slipped into her and she felt the brief discomfort of having something being buried deep within her. He moved in and out slowly, trying to get her used to the feeling. He was having a difficult time as well; trying to control himself... she was increasingly becoming wet and the knowledge that her arousal was because of him and solely him was enough to almost shatter him to pieces.  
  
She was now moaning and undulating her hips in time to his rhythm, her fingernails were boring deep scratches on his chest and back and arms but he didn't mind. When he placed a second finger in, Hermione almost screamed out loud. Draco's fingers repeatedly met the membrane that attested her purity, but he still didn't want to put too much pressure and break it. Instead, he moved faster...  
  
Hermione was clutching on to him by now... the intensity, the heat... it rose up to reach its peak before it threw her over the edge. Hermione's back arched, her eyes open but unseeing and she was breathing heavily. Her white-hot release coated Draco's fingers along with a tinge of crimson. Draco knew that she had not felt any pain when he broke her barrier. She had felt only him.  
  
Not wanting to scare her by pointing out that particular subject, Draco quickly removed the rest of his clothes as Hermione recovered from what just happened. She turned her head lazily and watched him as he removed his boots and pants. Then he was just as naked as her.  
  
Hermione turned away and blushed.  
  
When he lay on top of her, Hermione looked into his eyes... trying to ignore the fact that his arousal was blatantly obvious. Draco saw this and chuckled. Hermione's eyes narrowed before giving a small laugh as well.  
  
Then all of a sudden, laughter was the farthest thing from their minds.  
  
Draco brushed a piece of hair off Hermione's face, before bending his head and kissing her lightly on her nose, as he moved in between her legs, spreading them further. Her arms stole around his neck and brought him close... closer.  
  
Hermione gasped a bit when she felt him enter her. He was... well... quite large and it felt a bit uncomfortable. She waited for the inevitable pain that she'd always read about in novels when the heroine was virgin. But it didn't happen. Instead, she only felt his full length filling her, staying motionless for a moment, wanting her to feel at ease with him.  
  
Then slowly, Draco began to move in and out. Slowly at first, and with long strokes that did not only speak gentleness, but they also allowed Hermione to feel every glorious sensation there was to feel in making love. Her breath became ragged as she focused on those sensations.  
  
Then, their lips met in a crushing kiss as they moved together. What was slow and gentle quickly became hard and fast... There were times when Hermione felt that she would just die from what Draco was doing to her, and what she was doing to him... but in between those times she felt that she would die if he even thought about stopping.  
  
Sensation rose quickly however and at the apex of it, Hermione found release and cried out Draco's name... then Draco collapsed against her, breathing just as heavily as she was. It was only then that Hermione grasped that he had also found release right after she'd found hers. Hermione felt her own body contracting against him... almost as if she was craving for every drop of his seed.  
  
Draco regained what was left of his common sense and started to move off her, thinking that he was too heavy and that he might crush her under his weight. Hermione quickly grasped on to him, her hands slipping because of the fine sheen of sweat both of them were sporting.  
  
"Don't." Hermione breathed, her brown eyes gazing at his stormy ones. "Not yet..."  
  
His answer was a smile that Hermione had grown quite fond of.  
  
Sinking back down to her, but rolling on his side as not to crush her, Draco simply looked at Hermione and felt a deep feeling of contentment and a surge of protectiveness. She was his now... heart, mind, body, soul. Hermione turned to him lazily, her eyelids drooping sleepily.  
  
Hermione had drifted off to sleep now. Draco pulled out of her and reached for their cloaks, using them as blankets, before coming back down to rest beside her.  
  
The word ran itself through Draco's mind... over and over.  
  
Mine.  
  
It was all he remembered before he fell into abyss. 


	21. To Take Away

Author's Note: Good God! Has it been that long? Well, apparently, it has. I'm sorry for the lacks of updates and such... schoolwork was just so overwhelming that I couldn't even take the time to write down ideas of the next chapter. Not to mention that all this while, I've been enjoying a little romance of my own... so, forgive me? Please? Anyway, I am back and I am ready to finish this story! But, of course, one chapter at a time. So, for all of my supporters, readers, reviewers, this one's for you all! Thank you for the constant support and the emails. I treasure them all! Sorry that this chapter was quite short, I know it's frustrating that you had to wait all this time for this measly chapter of mine. Sorry... Patience, I guess. I'll come up with the next chapter soon. Read and enjoy!

Chapter 21: To Take Away

The sun was setting. The huge fiery ball was just dipping low on the horizon. To others, it would be a time for melancholy thoughts and peace. After all, this was just a bit of light before dusk took over. But to some, this was the time to attack.

Gareth Durant looked at the horizon, watching closely as the black of night started to bleed into the red, orange and yellow trail left by the sun. He was filled with a sense of pride. From the stories that his father, Madigan, had told him back then, he had to pay very close attention to the sunset.

The reds of the sky signified the phoenix, the Durant emblem. The oranges signified to the fire that they held, the power that they would hold on to, the passion they were born with. Ah, but the yellows... Madigan has not wanted to confess. He wanted his son to be proud of him, to love him. He did not want Gareth to think that he was less of a man because the woman that he was married to was not the woman he loved most dear. And so, he kept the meaning of the yellow streaks of sun on the sky to himself.

But Gareth found out just as well, or made inferences with his own childish gullibility. Either way, he came to know the story that will forever change his life... from his own mother, no less. But the story was so centered on Madigan being a great man, a great warrior, that it held half-truths and mostly lies. His mother, bitter that Madigan did not grow to love her even though she'd borne him a son, became ill because of jealousy and hate. This sickness she'd carried with her through the years, even more after Madigan had been killed. She took to drinking and staring unseeingly at a blank wall of the castle. She was too weak to move, too powerless to stop the maddening things around her.

So Gareth came to the conclusion that his father's death had been the cause for his mother's demise into unreality. It caused him to hate Draco, unknown of, unseen.

It was one night, when Gareth was around fifteen or sixteen years old when his mother told him what he desperately wanted to know. His mother told him that Madigan was a good man. Always caring, always loving. He had the mistake of wronging a man who had so much power over him and so he paid with his life. The man who killed Madigan was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy.

Gareth did not know that this story was false. He did not know that it was the product of his mother's imagination and mental illness. All he knew was Draco killed Madigan for no apparent reason. He had concluded in his mind that Draco killed every last Durant alive because of... of what, Gareth did not know. He never wanted to ponder on it. He wanted his emotions to take hold of him, let thinking be damned to hell!

He wanted revenge. Of the worst sort, of the most despicable kind. He wanted to watch Draco's reaction when he would find out, when he would pray and beg for mercy... Because of a woman he loved so dearly and who meant nothing to Gareth.

He wanted Draco to scream, to cry. He did not want Draco to look away when he would feed her into the flames then take her out so that he could do more. He wanted Draco to feel what he felt when he saw his father's head on a stake, bloody and dishonored.

What Gareth thought by the meaning of yellow in the sunset was honor and family pride. He could not have been more wrong; for what Madigan really meant in the very depths of his soul was not honor nor courage.

It was surrender... to love.

The night was beginning to fall. Two years after the death of Lucius Malfoy and the escape of Narcissa and Draco, Madigan Durant had been dreading sleep ever since. Night was cruel to him. It taunted him and made him restless. Now he knew how his victims felt when he suddenly entered their homes and gave no mercy to their screams and pleads. He was pleading for a good night's sleep. But it never came. And so, he was continually weak each day.

The ale didn't suffice to make him sleep, as he had tried many times before. It made him drowsy, he noted. But that drowsiness only made his nightmares come even more alive than they possibly were. He was sure others could see the looming mist of green air around him, almost suffocating him. But the others could not. And Madigan was not to let anybody know that he was becoming more and more insane.

The night, for Madigan Durant, was to be as merciless as the vengeance for Lucius' death.

The lies... the deceptions he told everyone. He was now suffering from the night's own deceptions. For in the stillness of the night, the blackness of its veil, a man – merely a child, then – was waiting in its folds, ready. He judged the scene before him, noting the guards and the soldiers milling about. They had been on another raid, he noted, and despised Madigan even more.

He waited. Until all the guards fell back and slept soundly. Until all the soldiers retired to their makeshift tents. Until he saw their leader, Madigan, walk near the edge of camp and take deep breaths. Those would be his last, Draco promised himself. Then he began to move. Slowly, so as not to disturb, yet fast enough not to lose Madigan in the night.

When Draco drew near, he could hear what Madigan was softly saying. Foolish words, Draco thought. The man was going insane... And with this observance, Draco unsheathed his sword...

With one quick movement, Madigan's body fell to the ground... Not a scream was heard from him, not even a single utterance. He had not even turned to meet his attacker.

And with Draco's realization that he had killed the man who had killed his father, Draco fell to his knees and looked to the sky, praying for forgiveness.

Gareth looked to the sky, which now had the first few stars peeking out from the sky. He knew what he had to do, he had no doubts about it. If he would die, then so be it. But now before taking Draco's life and laughing at what the fates had in store for them.

Father kills father, son kills son.

Pride and vengeance matter the most. Fear could be escaped. Hatred would be a waste of time. Love could be replaced...

And with this, Gareth took a deep breath before turning away from the sight. Tonight would be the means to the end.


	22. A Battle for the End

Author's Note: Aha! At last, the long-awaited chapter! After all these _years_ (I am not jesting about how long it took to write this single chapter... I had a real dry-spell...) of not updating, I'm back! And hopefully, you guys haven't given me up for rot. I've made plenty of excuses so I'll not bore you guys to death with those.

So, on with the story! I apologize that this chapter may not have been worth the wait... because it is simply too hard to write battle scenes! Read and Review please...

Chapter 22: A Battle for the End

"Don't pride yourself on your efficiency on the field, Malfoy. I'd have slit her throat before you can reach her."

The rules had been set up and laid out; he had no choice but to comply. He looked at his lady whose face was set in grim determination and he almost smiled. Gone was the lady who'd lain with him in all innocence and blessed naiveté. In her place was a woman whom he knew could stand her own ground.

And by God, the last thing he needed in this sort of situation was a wench bawling her eyes out, pleading for him to save her. He prayed that he would get them both out of this alive.

Unfortunately, praying wasn't nearly enough to save both lives. He made a quick count of the surrounding men. Too many for his liking, but he had his men on back up and out of side should anything happen to him. Or to Hermione. He couldn't let anything happen to her. But, he didn't want Durant to know that he had scores of men that were itching for a fight.

"Let her go." Draco said evenly. "You needn't threaten her life just to fight me. A simple challenge would have been good enough."

Gareth laughed bitterly but did not relinquish his grip on Hermione. "And where would the challenge in that be?"

"A man against twenty is a fair challenge?" Draco raised his eyebrow, gesturing to all the men that Gareth had about, surrounding him.

"It's fair enough for me, Malfoy."

Hermione on the other hand was watching the whole exchange in trepidation, although she tried not to show it. Her captor may have averted his attention to Draco, but she didn't want to take any chances. The blade of a knife was pressed so close to her throat that should she swallow, the edge would draw blood. So she kept still, watching the exchange between Draco and... Gareth.

_How could I have been so stupid!_ She thought, mentally berating herself.

Gareth Durant had been Sir William of England (or so he had her believe) all along! In her own words, she had been seriously duped. It was then when she made a vow to herself to never, ever speak to strangers again. Especially not in during these times. At least in the twentieth century, she had an instinct as to who were the bad guys. Here, she didn't have a clue.

_A great way to learn the ropes then_, she thought sarcastically, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

It was certainly her current state of ignorance about the evils of these times that allowed Gareth Durant to enter the stronghold of Draco's keep. It could be the last thing that Hermione would ever regret in her life.

_No!_ She told herself firmly. She would not lose faith in Draco's capabilities. Draco's capabilities may have been well-known throughout the country and Hermione didn't doubt for one second that Draco would come out of this alive. But to face twenty men all by himself, one after the other? Surely the Fates had something up their sleeves. Some sort of luck or some big sign that Draco would come out of this alive and hopefully alright.

Hermione could only hope. She snapped out of her thoughts when Gareth suddenly jerked her, tightening his hold on her and leaning more closely to her. Hermione recoiled at the contact but realized that she had no where to go.

"I swear, Malfoy. One more step and your beloved _Hermione_ dies." Gareth threatened, emphasizing on her name and smiled when Draco tightened the grip on his sword. Draco's eyes were full of murderous intent.

"Or," Gareth continued, "I'd have _you_ killed so that she can be mine. Have you, by any chance, taken her yet?"

Draco flinched as if he had been slapped. It took all of his willpower not to retort and give Durant the satisfaction that he was affected by the man's words. Emotions had no purpose on the battlefield. Anyone who showed emotion, even anger, went headfirst into failure and death.

That rule he had to learn the hard way.

"You can most certainly try to kill me." Draco replied coolly. He looked briefly at Hermione who gave him an inconspicuous nod of approval. His confidence grew tenfold. "But I doubt that you could do it."

"Always knew you were an arrogant bastard, Malfoy." Came the reply.

Gareth was on the edge of losing his temper and Draco took note of that.

"I may be arrogant, but I'm certainly not a bastard." Draco smirked. "Aren't you one?"

And it was at this time that Gareth Durant made a crucial mistake. He stopped thinking rationally and started to get angry. Draco took this as a sign to prepare for the inevitable order from Gareth to kill him. Draco made a mental checklist of his armor and weapons.

So far, his armor was nonexistent, as he had not donned mail; and his only weapon was his sword. And he was going to face twenty men who were in full battle gear.

Draco silently cursed his luck just as Gareth bellowed orders for his men to face Draco. One by one.

Hermione tried to close her eyes but found that she couldn't. She was deathly afraid that if she were to close her eyes for a brief period of time, she would hear the sound of steel pushing through flesh and bone. She looked to the sky and prayed a silent prayer that he would be all right. She had things to tell him, they had so many dreams to fulfill...

The first man that came at Draco had been easily dispatched. Draco knew where an opponent's weaknesses were just by their stance or the grip on their sword. He'd spent much time training with his men and watching his men that observing and noting down these minute details about his opponents were almost second-nature to him.

The second came after him. Then the third...

By the seventh man, Draco realized that Gareth had most certainly planned it so that the less-trained men were first. That had to mean that the last men that he would have to face were the best of the lot.

_Eight_. Draco counted as another man fell to the ground. He was starting to breathe heavily. He only had the chance to take in a few deep breaths before the next man fought with him.

Gareth inwardly winced at the fact that Draco was finishing off his men with little effort. Half of his men were now gone and they were supposed to be mercenaries! By God! He'd trained them every day for this event and they pay him back with their mistakes.

Was he supposed to do everything around here!

Gareth checked his position. Malfoy was still battling it out with one of the soldiers. Hermione was still in his grasp. She was pulled so close to him that he could feel every breath she took; and every breath that she didn't. He shook his head at Hermione's reactions to Draco. Here she was, held against her will by her lover's worst enemy and it seemed like she didn't mind at all.

He hadn't seen anything like her.

Gareth thought wildly as he scanned the premises. All of Draco's guards were in full force. From his vantage point, he could see that Draco's men had sealed off every exit. Their eyes overlooking the scene. Some of the men held crossbows and it seemed that they had him in their sights. Gareth caught the eye of one archer and smiled sinisterly, shaking his head and gesturing ever so slightly to the woman he held in his arms. The archer slowly brought down his crossbow; but his gaze never wavered.

_That's all right, Durant. _Goyle thought as he lowered his crossbow. _I'll gladly give Draco the honor of killing you. One arrow to your neck is simply too easy a shot. _Goyle's eyes then went back to where Draco was fighting. Only five men were left at this point. Goyle looked around, scanning the row of men that were around the perimeter of the walkway. He found about ten other archers with their crossbows cocked and ready to fire. He gave them a silent signal, warning them not to take any shot against any of Durant's men. One arrow not directed to Gareth would surely mean death to Hermione.

And then, Draco would finish Gareth off and have every one of their heads. Goyle had the impulse to laugh but the quickly sobered up when the last man's sword went through Draco's left thigh. The scream that Draco emitted was enough to set his hair on end.

Hermione tried to scream, but her scream was muffled by Gareth's hand over her mouth. Goyle too wanted to scream. He felt the pain that Draco went through as if it were his own. Goyle looked at the men and saw that they all seemed to lurch forward, anguish and determination clearly seen on their faces.

Goyle passed a silent order to the men, then quickly left the walkway. He had a plan forming in his head and hoped to the Saints that he would not be foiled.

Draco was thrown slightly off-balance before he fell to his knees. Exhaustion was slowly overcoming him and the pain from his profusely bleeding leg was not helping matters at all. He'd heard Hermione start to scream his name, but was cut off suddenly. Draco looked up to see Hermione squirming in her captor's grasp. He couldn't bear to look at her. He then saw Durant with a triumphant smile on his face. Draco's opponent was still standing. He was breathing heavily but he was still on his feet and it seemed like he wouldn't be going down anytime soon.

Draco tried to catch his breath for a few blessed seconds, trying to come up with a plan. Unfortunately, he was too tired to think of anything but the pain in his leg. It was during these few moments that Draco saw something or rather, someone, out of the corner of his eye.

It was Goyle, stealthily heading somewhere. Draco almost smiled at the sight of his plump friend making a mad dash to somewhere without anyone being the wiser.

"I hope you have something good up your sleeve, Goyle." Draco muttered right before Gareth spoke.

"Finish him." Gareth ordered.

"As you will, my lord." The soldier replied, nodding his head and bringing the tip of his sword directly in front of Draco's face. "Get up. I will not fight you whilst you're on the ground. Get up."

It was then that Draco decided that he was not going to be ordered around like some squire. By the saints, he was past all that! He had his sword, two working arms, one good leg and his wits all about him. He was sure he didn't need anything else. He looked up at the soldier, taking note of the soldier's tired eyes. And Draco smiled. Right before, he brought his sword up in an upward sweeping arc that took the soldier by surprise. And that slit the soldier's body from the right side of his belly to the left side of his neck.

The soldier dropped dead. Draco stood up, looking at Gareth dead in the eye and Gareth started to scream.

"Bastard!" Gareth shouted, shoving Hermione away in his rage and charging towards Draco. Hermione tried to regain her footing after being forcefully pushed away when she collided with a body. She looked up to find to her relief that it was simply Goyle who quickly kissed her forehead and told her to run for the castle. Hermione was about to do so when she was stopped dead in her tracks by the sickening sound of breaking bones.

She turned and saw that the sound had come from Draco's right hand that had been trampled on by Gareth.

"No!" Hermione screamed and tried to run towards him. She was stopped by Goyle who held her in place.

"Ssh..." Goyle said, keeping her close and shielding her. "He'll be alright. He's suffered worse than a few broken bones in the past."

Hermione wanted to believe him, she wanted to believe that Goyle was telling the truth. It was not entirely impossible that Draco had come out the victor wherein a few of his bones were fractured during a fight. It was the fact that his broken bones before might not have been the bones of his right hand – his swordarm – that absolutely terrified her.

But all she could do now was watch helplessly as Gareth howled and taunted at the man she loved.

Gareth was elated. His enemy was on the ground that was easily becoming wet as the blood from Draco's broken hand dripped to the soft earth. He smiled as he drew his sword with a flourish. Draco was on his side, looking up at Gareth and clutching at his right hand.

"It looks to me that the _great_ Draco Malfoy is finally on the ground. A pity..." Gareth taunted, smiling evilly. "It's such an easy task to kill you right here and now, isn't it?"

Draco first said nothing. Instead, he got to his feet as much as he could with all his battle wounds and raised his left arm. His sword was a few inches away from his boot but he didn't make a move to grab it. His right hand was rendered useless and he wasn't used to fighting with his left one. It didn't matter now.

Gareth backed away, his sword at the ready for what Draco had to say.

Draco was smiling.

"You forget, Durant. You've lost your prisoner," Draco said, referring to Hermione currently being held back by Goyle. He turned back to Durant who had just realized his mistake. "You failed to observe the scores of archers I have. And they've all got their arrows trained on you. One wrong move from you and I signal them to fire."

Gareth looked uneasy as he quickly scanned the walkway and found that Draco was right. But then, he turned back to Draco and continued with taunting him.

"You expect me to be scared, Malfoy? You know there is no honor in fighting a man who is certainly overcome." Gareth smiled and proceeded to turn around and take a few steps away from Draco until there was a good fifteen yards separating them and then turned back to Draco. "You're nothing but a coward if you do just that."

Hermione desperately wanted to scream at Gareth that it was not a few minutes ago that Draco had fought twenty men by himself and earned several bruises and two major injuries because of that. But she kept silent. It was not her place to fight him. Instead, she looked at Draco and saw him calmly look at Gareth as if he weren't hurt at all. Hermione's heart soared at the sight.

"Do you propose a duel, then?" Draco asked, his demeanor arrogant and sure. Draco lowered his hand.

"My thoughts exactly." Gareth said gleefully. "And the Lady Hermione as the prize."

Draco stole a glance at Hermione who caught his eye at the same time. She smiled at him and her smile reminded him just who he was: The best swordsman in all of France, swordarm or not. Weapon at hand or not.

"What are you waiting for, then?" Draco asked as he turned back to Gareth, cocking one eyebrow and smirking.

And then, all at once, three things happened:

One, Gareth lost all of his control and charged.

Two, Goyle pushed Hermione out of the way and threw something at Draco.

And three, Draco caught the dagger that Goyle has tossed him with his left hand, and in but a second, threw the dagger at Gareth.

Hermione watched in awe as Gareth found out that he had been struck, with the hilt of the dagger protruding from his chest, and fell down. She then turned her attention to Draco who was cradling his right arm with his left and was breathing heavily.

Gareth was still breathing, but his breathing was ragged and he was having a hard time sucking up the air. Draco looked down at him as Gareth looked up as well.

And before Gareth breathed his last, Draco said something to him, loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Never underestimate a Malfoy. His right hand may be his swordarm, but his left is more than capable of throwing weapons at enemies like you."

Author's Note 2: I hoped you liked that! Woohoo! Stay tuned for the Epilogue! ) Please read and review!


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